The Wednesday Rewind: Armond Armstead Lawsuit Against USC Could Change the Discussion of Sports Injuries

Just the other day, my fiancé and I were discussing health care and our health insurance policies when the conversation turned toward the topic of routine check-ups and doctors visits. Having come from a sports background where illness and injury is often seen as a weakness, the majority of my doctors’ visits revolved around the sport I was either already playing or for which I was preparing.

Throughout elementary school, junior high and for four summers in high school, I made an annual trip to my primary care physician and was subjected to a variety of tests, topics and touching all under the premise of “a physical is required to play X sport this upcoming season.” It became less about making sure I was healthy and more about crossing one item off our list of to-do’s to prepare for the school year.

I will often boast or, at the least, remark about my ability to avoid illnesses. I rarely get sick. I’m not sure whether it’s the benefit of a familial history of great immune systems (my dad still claims he has never thrown-up) or the stubbornness of a former athlete to never show weakness. But, over the years, I have become adept at self-diagnosing, although not quite on House’s level of diagnosing skills, and self-medicating, often skirting the cold season with nary a sneeze or sniffle.

“I haven’t needed to go to the doctor,” I said, “because I never get sick.” My fiancé replied “Yea, but when was the last time you went to the doctor, just for, like, a check-up. Are you saying you haven’t been to the doctor in, say…two years, since you moved to San Diego?”

“Well, if we’re talking about a routine physical, I’d say it would have to go all the way back to before I started football at Western. So, I guess the summer after my senior year of high school.”

Seven years. I haven’t had a normal physical in seven years because I trusted my team physicians and trainers at Western Washington University to tend to my injuries and illnesses, but only when they got in the way of practicing and playing football. When it came down to it, the only thing that really sidelined me was multiple concussions suffered during practices and games.

Bottom line, though, I put my trust in the team physicians. I understood that I was just one of the many athletes they treat and their job is more about keeping the athletes healthy for the school and the teams than it is about looking out for the health and well-being of player first. It sounds like a shocking statement, but when you think about it, the physicians and trainers are school employees. The job security of a team physician or trainer weighs heavily on that person’s ability to keep athletes healthy and/or on the field.

Therefore, I wasn’t surprised when I heard of the lawsuit former defensive lineman Armond Armstead filed against his former school, USC.

First reported last Thursday in the Sacramento Bee, the lawsuit alleges that Armstead, who played for the Trojans between 2008 and 2010, was administered repeated doses of the painkiller toradol, via injection, while dealing with a broken foot and, later, a shoulder injury. The lawsuit claims that the injections were given “in a quantity and frequency that exceeded maximum dosage guidelines, recommendations and restrictions.”

Armstead’s first Toradol injection came after suffering a broken foot during his sophomore season in 2009. Later, while dealing with what his attorney Roger A. Dreyer described as an AC separation of his shoulder, Armstead was subjected to repeated injections – allegedly 10 injections over a period of weeks and several days with two injections.

After bypassing the 2011 NFL Draft to return for his senior season, Armstead was projected to be a second or third-round draft pick with the goal of playing his way into the first round. During the winter of 2011, though, Armstead went to the University Park Health Center complaining of chest pains. He received another two injections of Toradol. In March, a few months later, Armstead was hospitalized after physicians at USC University Hospital determined he had suffered a heart attack – one of the potential risks, along with stroke, identified on the medication’s packaging, the lawsuit claims.

The key to this entire lawsuit, which focuses on the loss of Armstead’s senior season and his subsequent fall from an NFL prospect to playing for the Canadian Football League’s Toronto Argonauts, is that Armstead claims the repeated injections were given without his permission. Essentially, Armstead was never warned of the dangers of these treatments and claims he was told the injections were “mandatory.”

I’ve seen teammates have holes drilled through the nails on each big toe to relieve pressure and drain fluids just so that player could take the field on Saturday. My freshman year of college, during training camp, one of our star wide receivers suffered a collapsed lung during practice and was rushed to the hospital. He was back on the field week one. When banged-up or injured, coaches often preached treatment, treatment, treatment, as if healing is that simple.

The human body is blessed with natural healing mechanisms which can be sped up with the right treatment. But, as is so often the case, what happens when the body isn’t healing fast enough and game day is fast approaching? We can just take a shortcut. Simple painkiller injection here, heavy tape job there; if you can’t feel it, then it must not be hurt, right?

In Armstead’s case, he was a pivotal player for one of the best programs in the country. If the coaches needed Armstead on the field, they are going to relay that message to the trainers and physicians to ensure he is ready to go. So long as he can prove USC was negligent in his treatment, Armstead has a case against his former school. And yet, Armstead’s biggest mistake, which essentially put the wheels in motion toward this lawsuit, was putting too much faith and trust in his trainers and physicians.

Doctors are often considered to be the worst patients. Why? Well, it is probably because they often have an extensive knowledge of illnesses and injuries and are adept at self-diagnosing, so therefore they are naturally skeptical of another doctor’s diagnosis. I’m not saying that Armstead should be skeptical of any treatment he receives from trainers, but he should when it comes to anything described as “mandatory.” It doesn’t hurt to question the reasons behind specific types of treatment. How is this helping? What are the alternatives? Are there risks?

All too often the discussions over injuries at the professional and collegiate football levels focus on concussions and head trauma. We heavily criticize coaches that allow concussed players to re-enter games without first checking with a doctor or trainer to make sure the player is medically cleared because head trauma can cause long-term health risks. But where is the criticism for coaches who allow players with separated shoulders to re-enter games? Why is it okay for a player to sit out of practice for an entire week receiving treatment after treatment to only then play a game at, maybe 70 percent full health?

These questions may seem funny to some people – Hey, it’s just a shoulder injury or a partially torn hamstring, it will eventually heal. But, it’s almost like athletes accept the fact that severe bodily injuries will negatively affect them throughout life, but when it comes to head trauma negatively affecting them that is somehow the fault of the NFL or the NCAA for not properly informing them of the long-term risks.

It’s almost refreshing to see a health-related lawsuit that doesn’t center on concussions. While I wish Armstead the best in his fight against USC, I hope this lawsuit lessens the debate on concussions or at least opens peoples’ eyes to the fact that, head trauma or bodily injury, every sport presents injury risks.

Regardless of warning, a player’s health and safety largely resides in the player’s hands and it is a player’s job to question doctors and trainers to make sure their health is of utmost concern, not the well-being of the team. When it comes to the treatment of an injury, nothing described as “mandatory” should go unquestioned.