Dezeree Bradshaw v. SSM Health Care of Oklahoma, Inc., d/b/a SSM Health Medical Group

Let’s get straight to the most jaw-dropping part: a 77-year-old woman walked into a medical clinic for a routine wellness checkup, and walked out—well, actually, was probably wheeled out—with a fractured hip, all because the floor had a hump in it that no one had bothered to fix or even warn people about. Not a slick patch of spilled hand sanitizer, not a rogue wheelchair left in the hallway—just a literal bump in the floor, like someone forgot to smooth out the linoleum during renovation and then just… left it there. And now, we’re in court. Not for a murder, not for a scandalous affair, but because a healthcare facility apparently thought floor integrity was optional.

Meet Dezeree Bradshaw, a 77-year-old resident of Shawnee, Oklahoma, who, on August 27, 2025, did exactly what doctors tell us all to do—she went in for a wellness visit. Good for her. She’s taking care of her health, showing up on time, probably wearing those sensible shoes your grandma insists on. She arrives at the SSM Health Medical Group clinic on North Kickapoo Avenue, a facility operated by SSM Health Care of Oklahoma, Inc., a full-service medical provider that, one would assume, knows a thing or two about preventing injuries. After all, they’re in the business of healing people, not accidentally breaking them. But here we are.

Dezeree is told she needs to be weighed—standard procedure. A clinic employee guides her down a hallway toward the scales. Nothing out of the ordinary. She’s not running, she’s not distracted, she’s not texting while walking—she’s 77, for crying out loud. She’s probably moving extra carefully. But then—wham. Her foot catches on a raised hump in the floor. She didn’t see it. The petition says the flooring finish and the lighting made it impossible to spot. And down she goes. The fall results in a fractured hip—a serious injury at any age, but especially for someone in their late 70s, where recovery can be brutal, painful, and life-altering. This isn’t just a bruise or a sprain. A hip fracture at that age often means surgery, rehab, loss of independence, and sometimes, it’s the beginning of a steep decline. And what caused it? Not a fall on ice, not a stumble on stairs—no, it was a lumpy floor in a medical clinic. A place where you’d expect the highest standards of safety, especially for elderly patients.

Now, you might think, “Okay, accidents happen.” And sure, they do. But here’s the kicker: Dezeree’s lawsuit isn’t just saying, “I slipped and got hurt.” It’s saying, “This wasn’t an accident. This was preventable. This was negligence.” And legally, that’s a whole different ballgame. The claim is premises liability—a fancy way of saying, “You own this place, you’re responsible for keeping it safe.” And under Oklahoma law, businesses have a duty to inspect their property for hidden dangers and to either fix them or warn people about them. This isn’t some dusty legal theory—it’s a well-established rule. The filing even cites a 1967 Oklahoma Supreme Court case, Foster v. Harding, which basically says: if you’re letting people onto your property, you can’t just ignore hazards. You have to look out for them. And here’s the real zinger: that duty is non-delegable. That means SSM can’t just say, “Oh, the janitor was supposed to check the floors,” or “Our contractor messed up the installation.” Nope. The responsibility lands squarely on the clinic’s shoulders. They’re the ones in charge. They’re the ones who benefit from patients coming in. So they’re the ones who have to make sure the floor isn’t trying to assassinate Grandma on her way to the scale.

The lawsuit argues that the hump was a “hidden danger”—not something obvious like a gaping hole, but a subtle, deceptive rise in the flooring that blended in with the rest of the surface. And because of the lighting and the floor finish, Dezeree had no chance to see it coming. That’s key. If it were obvious, she might be out of luck. But if it was a sneaky, invisible trip hazard in a hallway full of elderly patients, then the clinic had a duty to do something about it. And they didn’t. No warning signs. No cones. No “Caution: Floor is Having an Existential Crisis.” Nothing. Just a silent, waiting bump ready to take down the next unsuspecting patient.

Now, what does Dezeree want? The petition says she’s seeking damages “in excess of the diversity jurisdictional limit.” That’s legalese for “more than $75,000,” which is the threshold for federal court in cases where the parties are from different states. So we’re talking about a claim that could be worth tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars when you factor in medical bills, pain and suffering, lost mobility, and long-term care. Is that a lot? For a cracked floor? Well, let’s put it this way: a hip fracture in an older adult can lead to $30,000 to $50,000 in initial medical costs alone. Add in rehab, possible nursing care, and the impact on quality of life, and suddenly, $75,000 doesn’t sound so outrageous. Especially when you consider that the fix—leveling a floor hump—probably would’ve cost a few hundred bucks. So we’re not talking about greed here. We’re talking about accountability. And maybe, just maybe, a message to every clinic, store, and business in America: fix your damn floors.

Now, here’s our take—because let’s be real, we’re not just here to summarize court documents. We’re here to judge. And judge we shall. The most absurd part of this whole situation isn’t that Dezeree fell. It’s that this happened in a medical facility. These are the people who lecture patients about fall risks, who hand out brochures on osteoporosis, who say, “Be careful on the stairs,” and “Use a cane if you need it.” And yet, they couldn’t be bothered to ensure the floor was flat? It’s like a fire station burning down because someone left a lit cigarette in the break room. The irony is palpable. You’d think a clinic would be the last place someone would get injured just walking down a hallway. But no. Dezeree goes in for a wellness check and comes out with a fracture that could’ve been avoided with a five-minute inspection. And let’s not forget—she was being guided by an employee. So not only was the hazard there, but the clinic staff didn’t even notice it either. Either that, or they did notice and just… kept walking. “Oh, that hump? Yeah, we call it ‘the hip breaker.’ Don’t worry, it’s been there since 2019.”

Do we think Dezeree is trying to get rich? Not a chance. She’s 77. She didn’t sue for fun. She didn’t file this because she’s looking for a vacation fund. She’s doing it because she got hurt in a place that’s supposed to protect people, and now she’s dealing with the consequences. And while we can’t say what a jury would decide—because again, we’re entertainers, not lawyers—what we can say is this: if you’re going to run a medical clinic, especially one that treats older patients, you better make damn sure the floors aren’t plotting against your visitors. Because if you don’t, you might just find yourself on the receiving end of a lawsuit that’s equal parts tragic and darkly hilarious. And honestly? We’re rooting for Dezeree. Not because we love lawsuits, but because no one should get injured while trying to stay healthy. That’s not healthcare. That’s a trapdoor.