Life is a Song, Love is the Music.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

They call this healthcare?

Last Thursday morning at about 9 a.m., I experienced the worst pain I could have ever imagined. I debated going to the doctor, but after a few minutes and coaxing from my sister over the phone, I texted my dear friend, Alli, for assistance.

I was unable to stand up straight, and barely able to walk. I initially suspected kidney stones....

Alli decided that it would be best to take me to the hospital in Weston, since the little doctor's office a few miles away would more than likely have no way of helping me.
The ride to Weston seemed endless. We managed to get there, and what was the first question they asked me? ---- "Ms. Bailey, do you have insurance?"
What went through my head when they asked me this?------ "Why the heck does that matter if I'm doubled over in pain and any normal person with an ounce of compassion would have enough sense to realize that my insurance status should not matter at this point?" I struggled through getting my information across to the receptionist. I will say, though, that she was actually a good receptionist and typed very fast. I suppose hospital protocol is to ask the inflicted as many random questions as possible, when my wallet includes my drivers license (which displays my address and birthday), my Social Security card, my insurance card, Dad's business card, and a debit card. They could have easily accepted all of those cards for my information. What if my condition would have been worse than it was? There's no way I could have answered those questions if that were the case.

Of course, I have a very hard-working father that has a good job and a good insurance plan. At this point, I changed into a hospital gown and began the hour of rolling around on the ER bed, moaning and crying in pain.

They eventually came in with needles. I am terribly afraid of needles. My good friend held my hand while the mean old nurse dug around in my other hand, trying to find a vein for an IV. She was terrible at digging, and I recall her being a bit rude to Alli. My veins are BLUE, dummy! The needles hurt, but my side was worse, and it was difficult for me to hold still. Two puncture wounds and another needle-digging session in my other arm later, the IV was in, and they gave me a nice dose of Demerol. 10 minutes later, the room was spinning, and I was feeling great.
After reviewing the CT scan, the doctor came in and told me that I had an ovarian cyst that ruptured. He gave me a prescription for painkillers, and told me to take it easy for the next few days. I did not see a gynecologist, and the ER doctor did not stay long enough for me to ask any questions.

Mom met us back at Glenville to take me home. I was still in pain for the rest of the evening, but I woke up Friday feeling much better.

Saturday was another story. I woke up in even more agonizing pain than I had Thursday. Mom rushed me out to Raleigh General, where the same thing happened at Weston, except they did an ultrasound and urinalysis, then told me that they THOUGHT that they saw "SPOTS" on my left kidney. These 'spots' are supposed to be stones? So, they sent me home after telling me to take it easy and drink lots of water and juice.

It's Wednesday. Am I better? Not quite. I'm still loading myself with Ibuprofen and cranberry juice. It isn't the best painkiller, but I would rather not have any sort of opioid running through my system since it knocks me out cold. I suppose my next step is to schedule a trip to the urologist and gynecologist, as much as I hate to...

If I happen to piss the suspected kidney stone out, I will try to save it and send it to Weston hospital with a note that says "here's your ovarian cyst, go back to school."

So, this insurance thing pisses me off.

What was the reason behind John Q and his hostage situation at the hospital where his dying son was at? No insurance....

My sister was 6 weeks pregnant last December, when she suddenly found herself in severe pain. When she called the Obstetrics office and told them her situation, what was the first question they asked? "Do you have insurance?" Instead of calming an expecting woman, all they were concerned about was money.
It turned out that she had an ectopic pregnancy that was about to rupture. She could have easily hemorrhaged to death.
They were so insensitive. It's like the doctors around here have no compassion for the patient, rather, they are just concerned about payday.

ARGGGGGGGHHHH......

1 Comments:

Blogger Your Daily Laughter said...

I just wanted you to know that I enjoyed this post very much and just about laughed my gut out when I got to this part.
"If I happen to piss the suspected kidney stone out, I will try to save it and send it to Weston hospital with a note that says 'here's your ovarian cyst, go back to school.'"
I was laughing so hard, my mom was like "whats so funny" so I read it to her and she cracked up, then I read it to dad... who doesn't laugh... but he smiled and nodded his head.

:) Nice post.

February 27, 2009 at 3:57 PM  

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