On Saturday, June 17, 1995, I had just returned from an up & down week at South Carolina’s Palmetto Boys State, sponsored by the American Legion. It was up & down due to the weird things going on with my body that just didn’t seem normal-night sweats, back pains, inability to use the bathroom at times, throwing up after I ate, & being really tired participating in sports activities throughout the week.

I vaguely remember explaining to my mother, an ER nurse of a decade or more, my symptoms on the ride home to Prosperity, SC. As soon as I got home, I  remember still being excited to head out on Lake Murray for a day of water skiing, cooking out, and just being on the lake. Back then I was in shape and had pretty hard stomach muscles, so like any dumb teenager, I didnt mind having those muscles tested with a gut shot, or punch. My aunt was at our house that day when we got home en route to the lake and unfortunately for her she was the one that played around with me to provide that gut shot to the stomach…I can never forget that punch. It wasn’t because she really hit me hard or hit me when I wasnt expecting it. It was because when she did playfully hit me, it almost caused me to fall down and start throwing up it hurt so bad.

Twenty-one (21) years ago as I sit here typing this, I can still see the scene:

I was standing right outside the white linoleum kitchen flooring, on the light brown carpeting in front of my mother’s decorative bench that sat under the four pane, mirrored decorative piece hanging above it. I was facing towards the side door that lead to the garage and Aunt Mary Kay was bouncing around playfully like a boxer, but unlike a real boxer, she was wearing a black bathing suit with white highlights, while our kitchen table was to my left. She playfully struck with her left hand and then more sternly with her right hand.  Now I recognize the awkward looks between the parental figures, after seeing my animated reaction to such a light &  playful interaction.

My mother decided to let the rest of the family head on to the lake but maybe my complaints of fatigue should just be checked out real quick at the hospital where she worked, Lexington Medical Center. She drove her gray, Mazda 626 with gray cloth seats on a bright, sunny day towards Columbia and tried to console me that this was no big deal, I was fine. ( I realize now she was really trying to calm herself down-she later revealed to me she thought I had mono.)

When we got to the hospital, we were provided professional courtesies for her many years working in the ER and I went straight back to a private waiting area. A nice phlebotomist, a heavier, set black male, who apparently had won the respect of my mother as a “1 sticker” drew blood for lab work. (I write this narrative for medicinal value so I can help open long vaulted compartments in my psyche, so no wonder I am having some manifestations of those emotions right now as I type, aka crying.).

I didnt realize what was going on at the time but I did recognize my mother’s voice in what seemed to turn from surprise, then to aggressiveness in demanding tests be run again as she talked with her colleagues at a nearby nurses station. The phlebotomist came in again and drew more blood work and did so calm as a cucumber indicating another test needed to be run. Shortly thereafter is the scream I can hardly forget from my mother and then her wailing. I started to get nervous at that point as my mother was a pretty stern lady, that showed emotion when needed but to cry openly in her comfort zone and in front of her colleagues kind of scared me. That was not normal & apparently as time would tell, neither was my blood work. My white blood cell count was over 150,000 with normal ranging from 3,500-10,500.

My private waiting area was quickly transformed as I was asked to go change into a gown all the while not knowing what was going on. That was the part I hated the most looking back. Nobody would tell me what was going on. I was no idiot and at the very least, knew if my lake day was about to be ruined and my mother was screaming, something had to be wrong. Plus,I was the only one getting medical work performed upon.

As I got my own private room at this point, I will ever forget that coy, son of bitch, white haired doctor whose name started with an “M”. He acted like I was interrupting his day, laughed and was joking around. Again, I still had not clue what was going on. He indicated he just had to take a sample real quick. Then he proceeded to take a bone marrow aspiration from me without any anesthesia other than some lidocaine to the skin. That extraction device he screwed into my hip is  probably not nearly as medieval as I remember but I will never forget him stopping in the middle of screwing that device into my hip bone & saying, “Son, you have some strong bones.” Then he proceeded to twist harder into my hip. To this day it is the worst pain I have ever felt in my life.

Fittingly, understandably, and realistically, that is where my memories of today, 21 years ago stop.  I was ultimately diagnosed with Acute lymphocytic leukemia (ALL), and later told of my two week prognosis. I remember snipets of the days and weeks that followed. More importantly, I remember the love and outpouring support from my family, friends, my church, and my community. I will forever be indebted to them all.

God is good, life is good, and we can only make the most with what we are given. I hope you all take advantage of the opportunities and wonders given to you every day. Now you know why I say:

I AM LIVING THE DREAM!

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Photo of Trey Mills Trey Mills

Floyd S. “Trey” Mills III knows that suffering a personal injury through no fault of your own can be a nightmare for the victim and his or her family

Mr. Mills was born on April 24, 1978.  His parents, Floyd S. “Butch” Mills, Jr. and Patricia Yarborough Mills, were originally from Newberry, South Carolina, and soon after the birth of Mr. Mills, his parents brought him back to be raised in the same county they grew up in.

Education

Mr. Mills attended Newberry Academy from grades K-3, Gallman Elementary 4th grade, Rikard Elementary 5-6th grade, Mid-Carolina Middle School 7-8th grades, Mid-Carolina High School from 9-12th grades, Clemson University, and Walter F. George School of Law at Mercer University.

Health Crisis

While Mr. Mills was a junior in high school he was chosen by his school to be a representative to Boys State.  This was a great honor and would have been an even better experience except, while at Boys State, Mr. Mills became unusually ill with blackouts, night sweats, and back pain.  Fortunately for Mr. Mills, his mother was an ER nurse at Lexington Medical Center, but unfortunately, for Mr. Mills that did not change his diagnosis of Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia.  Along with his diagnosis, Mr. Mills received a prognosis of two weeks.

Obviously, Mr. Mills has been blessed with his second chance at life and those who have been wronged by health care insurance companies and other types of insurance companies can feel confident in knowing that Mr. Mills can not only empathize with them but fight fervently for their side.  Mr. Mills’ cancer experience and his mother’s arduous yet unsuccessful battle against lung cancer were very trying times.  However, those real-world battles and experiences were nothing compared to the administrative and billing wars he had to encounter with Blue Cross Blue Shield Health Insurance. It seems BCBS would deny any charge over $1,000 without rational reasoning therefore prompting Mr. Mills to go to law school and carry the torch for those that were too ill to fight for themselves while the school yard bully beat them down.

College

Mr. Mills went on to Clemson University where he was very active in student activities along with academic accomplishments.  Mr. Mills was invited to join Calhoun Honor’s College, Sigma Pi fraternity, Golden Key National Honor Society, Student Government, IPTAY Student Advisory Board, and Tiger Brotherhood. Mr. Mills also worked as a student employee with IPTAY Scholarship Fund under the direction of Bert Henderson, formerly the Associate Athletic Director of Planned Giving at Clemson University.

Early Life

Mr. Mills was unsure of where his hard work and life experiences would best provide an adequate return to the outpouring of kindness he received during his cancer experience. Having received many blessings from the American Red Cross, Mr. Mills went on to be an Apheresis Donor Recruiter under the supervision of Barry Pollard at the American Red Cross Blood Donor Services in Columbia, SC after graduating Clemson University.

Running from his true calling, Mr. Mills fled to Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico to Teach English as a Foreign Language (TEFL).  Having spent a semester of college in Madrid, Spain, Mr. Mills thought he should be assisting foreign countries. Mr. Mills was certified by the Vancouver Language Centre in Guadalajara for his TEFL training.  Mr. Mills was in Guadalajara only a few months when September 11, 2001 occurred and helped him focus on his life priorities.

Law School

Mr. Mills went on to law school at Mercer University and clerked each summer trying to determine how he could best serve those less fortunate.  The corporate law firms never truly provided him with that personal feeling of assisting the common person in need.  It wasn’t until Mr. Mills became the first law clerk of the South Carolina Trial Lawyers Association under the supervision of Linda Franklin and lobbyist Michael Gunn that he realized where his education, life experience, drive, and hard work could truly benefit those who have been personally and directly affected by the negligence of another.  Mr. Mills wanted to be a coveted and much needed plaintiff’s trial attorney.  More importantly Mr. Mills realized the power of the faceless insurance companies, misinformed legislative members, and the true power of money and lobbyist in dictating laws.

What’s the one service you pay for all your life but you are actually penalized if you ever have to use it? Insurance.

Trammell & Mills

Mr. Ernie Trammell gave Mr. Mills his big break at leveling the playing field against the faceless and heartless insurance companies.  Mr. Mills works tirelessly every day in an effort to bring justice to those who have been wronged.  Mr. Mills has worked on both sides of the law and has been through some harrowing life experiences.  Mr. Mills has been tested and tried by many of the more traumatic events that life has to offer and now provides his services to the public.

Who would you rather have on your side? Someone whose resolve has been tested and tried? Or someone who has intertwined their morality and greed in such a way that they can’t tell one from the other?

Why haven’t you hired Mr. Mills to be your attorney yet?

Would you listen to the devil on how to get to Heaven? Then why listen to insurance adjusters?