Continued: Assaulted
why I was reporting the incident at the substation instead of over the phone. She then pointed to a phone
in the substation that I could use. After dialing the
242-COPS number using the substation phone I was
finally connected to someone who said a police
officer would be out to talk to me. After waiting for
about one (1) hour, in which time the lady behind the
desk personally helped several people, a young 30ish
looking APD officer named Patrick Casias walked out
the door inside the substation and asked me if I
wanted to sit down. After listening to me tell my story
Casias handed me a card with his information and the
APD Case Number 140103807 written on the back.
He promised to look into the case and that if I had
any further information I should contact him. He also
advised me to get checked by a doctor to see if I’d
been drugged, which I did almost immediately after
leaving the substation.
At the VA I was examined by a nice female
doctor who seemed genuinely concerned about my
well being. She told me that if I had been drugged the
type of drugs that could cause the type of memory
loss I experienced would already be out of my
system. She asked if I wanted a brain scan, but didn’t
think it was worth it because it would only show
hemorrhaging and if that was the case I would’ve
probably been in the hospital a lot sooner. She
examined the two marks on my forehead which
initially looked like two puncture wounds about a half
inch apart, but by the time of the doctor’s visit they
had pretty much healed and looked like a couple of
round scabby dots, partially covered by wrinkles. The
doctor agreed that it sounded like I had been tasered
and that the memory loss was indeed something that
could happen from being shocked in the head with
enough voltage. She said my wounds didn’t look like I
was beaten with a blunt object as most type of blunt
trauma to the head that could cause that type of
memory loss would have left bruising, swelling, or
other identifiable marks which weren’t present on me
at the time. Not to mention, I’ve been knocked out in
the past after having bashed heads with another
person while playing in a soccer game, and not only
did I regain consciousness much quicker in the
soccer incident, but I also had a much bigger wound
that had to be stitched up at the hospital afterward.
I’ve also had fuzzy memory recalls from drinking, but
never from that little amount and never to the point
where one moment I don’t remember anything at all,
and the next minute I’m coherent enough to notice
that I’m walking down Lomas. Other than agreeing
that it was possible I was tasered in the head, the
doctor at the VA could not confirm anything and at
best could only write up a report detailing the incident
and the after effects I was experiencing, including
painful headaches and continued short term memory
loss. The doctor recommended I go back and
interview as many people as possible at the bar to
see what I could learn. Unfortunately my time to do
so was quite limited, but I did attempt to contact a
number of people online and began my own web
search for the face of the cop I still have burned into
my memory. I also filed an online police complaint
form with what I now know is a completely defunct
Civilian Police Oversight Agency (CPOA). After
submitting the complaint I eventually received a
response from someone who called herself Diane
(McDermott, I believe). Although Diane seemed like
she was actually going to look into my case, it was
more of a false hope than anything close to what we
like to call reality.
On 11/22/2014 I recovered my phone by what
must have been sheer luck, as I had been trying to
trace its whereabouts using Google’s Android Device
Manager and by calling my number repeatedly with a
new, cheaper phone I had to purchase after having
my only other one stolen. Although I had no luck with
either method, my dad was able to get through to
someone who he said sounded like was possibly
homeless because of some things he had mumbled,
which gave me a tiny bit of hope that I could learn
more. In fact, it was a homeless person I saw
standing in a parking lot who inspired me to try and
call my phone again on the 22nd, and to my surprise
there was an answer on the other end. I quickly
began negotiating for the phone, offering the person
on the other end $45 to give it back. The person with
my phone said he wanted more, but I told him it
wasn’t worth it and that that was all I had. He told
me to meet him at the 7-Eleven on Montgomery, just
east of Carlisle. After parking on the east side of the
gas station I called my phone to let the person on
the other end know that I was there. He told me to
wait, which I did, but I became bored and walked
inside the gas station to get something to drink and
a couple of snacks. When I walked outside there was
an SUV and a 4-door sedan parked next to my
vehicle with about three (3) or four (4) young men
inside playing loud gangster rap blasting the lyrics
“murder, murder, murder - kill, kill, kill.”
“Crap,” I thought. “What did I agree to? These
guys are going to rob me.” I asked one of the guys
who had stepped outside of the car if he had my
phone, which he said he did. He told me he had
bought the phone off some guy on a bike just down
the road, and that’s all he knew about it. I gave him
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