Don’t be Mistaken, This Is Indeed a Problem

When you’re sick enough to get a view of death’s door you wonder, why can't doctors just listen?
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Last month, I was so insanely ill I was unable to write my Sharing Suzette. What I learned is our hospital system ain’t no HOUSE show.

You know that TV show where a group of brilliant doctors, including the illustrious HOUSE himself, convene each day in a large chic room at a top notch hospital. In each episode, a new patient is dying and the amazing docs are brainstorming to figure out the mysterious illness before the clock runs out. Of course in every show they brilliantly solve each case – no matter how rare the condition.

In real life, there is no HOUSE or team.

In real life, my emergency room was small, cramped and the bathroom so filthy that the long list of hospital (acceptable?) “C” ratings posted on the wall should have been “F’s.” Through my whole visit, many of the staff hung out together in groups in the halls shooting the (you know what) so loudly I was convinced there was a party going on and why was this happening in the emergency room of all places?!!

Instead I get referred to a well-respected skin doctor who, in hindsight, does not even have my chart in his hand and who does not go to a computer to look up the recommendations and side effects of the Lamisil pills he prescribes.

The nurse who was assigned to me was so verbally and physically unkind that my ex-husband had to tell her to be nice – really? The doctor so disbelieving of my actually being sick that the manner of his questioning my symptoms caused my ex-husband to speak up and have to say “She’s not like that.” You know as to say, “She doesn’t make stuff up; she’s not a hypochondriac!” All I remember is riding waves on the edge of blacking out while wondering what comes after the blackness. Later, I’d read online that in such extreme cases of hypoglycemia, next comes a coma. I had a view of death’s door. In my follow up, I’d sit at my GP’s desk and she’d say condescendingly to me “a coma?” I made a decision on the spot I’d find a new GP.

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As I lay in the emergency room like a sick deer in headlights, I became aware that all the hospital would succeed in would be to rack up medical costs on me. Do you think something is wrong with this picture? Am I sarcastic enough?

The scary part is how I was treated by all three of my doctors and how no one would listen to me!

Perhaps you read the recent New York Times piece “Doctor, Shut up and Listen.” A woman goes to six doctors for “rapid heartbeat” before finally the last one determines it’s the over-the-counter diet medication she’s taking causing the problem. When he inquires why she never told any of them, she responds, she’d “never been asked.”

Yup, that’s what happened to me too. To make a long story short: I have a single fungus nail I’ve lived with most of my life. My nail begins to grow into my foot causing pain and an infection. I ask for a podiatrist referral and my GP informs me we “don’t have podiatrists.” No podiatrists and what’s wrong with a podiatrist? Instead I get referred to a well-respected skin doctor who, in hindsight, does not even have my chart in his hand and who does not go to a computer to look up the recommendations and side effects of the Lamisil pills he prescribes. I remember the commercials on TV and question, “Doesn’t it cause kidney complications?” He simply replies, “It has almost no side effects.”

My blood sugar drops so far I can barely walk, everything is spinning and I hover on the edge of blacking out for a good 45 minutes. Worse yet no one believes me!!

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I trust my doctor and I take the pills for 9 days. That night, I feel ill and go downhill at a blazing rate. In the middle of the night, I web search to realize I have all (save one) of the list of rare severe allergic reactions. It clearly states to not take it if you’re hypoglycemic and I’m incredulous my doctor did not ask me. My blood sugar drops so far I can barely walk, everything is spinning and I hover on the edge of blacking out for a good 45 minutes. Worse yet no one believes me!!

You see I have a rare hypoglycemic blood sugar condition that runs in the family. Back in 1979, no doctor in the Detroit area could figure out what was wrong with my mom. Desperate, she flew to New York City to see Dr. Robert Atkins of the well-know high protein diet (this was before that specific book) who after many tests did in fact figure it out. We don’t show up in the typical blood tests. Rare conditions call for rare reactions and the ability for a rare diagnosis.

They can’t think out of the box and they won’t listen. I’ve come to the conclusion that hospitals can suffer from a serious case of arrogance.

Life is not the same for me now and my blood sugar is whacked out in waves of feeling normal than not.  My GP exclaimed “I never prescribe that, it’s the big guns.” The big guns for a nail growing into my toe?!! My skin doc said when I called in sick, “Oh, it may have altered your metabolism.”

Nice and who pays for your lack of concern to properly care for me? Would the answer be – I do!

I was too sick to go over to him and too sick to deal with the unkind attitude of those who were supposed to be caring for us. I just was not up for the fight they would give me if I expressed concern or tried to walk over to him.

Yes my health has been compromised, but I will also live with the emergency room memory of the haunting cries of a sick old woman who laid in pain close to the checkout desk where the main loud party was going on.  As well as an old man who lay all alone on a gurney in the hall right by the checkout desk in the midst of the out of control party. I could see the pain on his face. I was too sick to go over to him and too sick to deal with the unkind attitude of those who were supposed to be caring for us. I just was not up for the fight they would give me if I expressed concern or tried to walk over to him.

In the end, I did call and report my emergency room experience to the hospital complaint line. I suppose some systems get to ride on reputations as they dissipate.

Meanwhile I’m emailing and making calls globally to find a specialist who will listen to me.

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