Not all Doctors are created equal, in fact some doctors should have never been created…
So, where were we? Ahh yes.. Pocono Medical Center. So, I’ve been getting platelets all night to stabilize my condition; I remain in the ICU in case something catastrophic happens. Poor Anita is stuck having to be with me. Strangely, what I am worried about most is losing my job. I had missed so many days this year due to this illness, I feared any more sick days and my boss would have it. Him and I already had a little bit of a “sit down” due to the amount of sick time I was taking from the company and while he understood I was dealing with something completely off the wall, he also made clear his need to have someone he can rely on to put their butt in the seat when he needed them. What made the situation worse in my head was that I was actually on call that weekend. The last thing I needed was to be sick that weekend in case something huge had happened.
And all the while I was worrying about this… I was actually ill, too… Or so they told me. The orange juice flowed, eventually my mom came up from NJ, and the barrage of specialists came in; all wanting a piece of the mystery disease that was so far above their capabilities, they must’ve been dizzy in their research. I don’t remember any of their names, but I don’t remember liking most of them save for two. The worst part? The doctor in charge of my condition was a hematologist that wanted no part of my situation from the second he saw my chart. I don’t remember what he looks like, really. White man, lab coat, indifferent look on his face. While having my first conversation with this man, I already know that his main goal is not to find anything out, but to get my platelet count above 50K so he can ship me off. Now, while the prospect of being stabilized is wonderful, I (and everyone else) was more concerned with the fact that no one knew what was going on inside me and the fact that every time they’d infuse me with platelets, every time they drew blood and checked it thereafter, the count would drop. When I bring this up to the hematologist, his response was an indifferent phrase to the likes of “don’t worry, we’ll getcha outta here.” At first I was afraid that I was going to be stuck there forever, now I feared that I’d be given the proverbial band aid and left to fend for myself.
That first day in the ICU was difficult to deal with. I was so afraid and so confused and so worried about so many things that I just felt awful. My mom came in and has no idea as to what is happening which naturally throws her into panic mode. Anita is her usual calm self, nut her concern is as visible on her face as her smile. Even more wonderful is dutiful James who basically sacrificed his Saturday night to spend it with me there in the ICU. Sitting there in my little half room, watching TV with me until he fell asleep. Having those people around feels reassuring.
What is not reassuring is the massive confusion between the doctors. They are sending in infectious disease specialists, the douche hematologist, endocrinologists, and various other unidentifiable doctors that all come in, ask the same questions that I am forced to answer again and again; they all poke and prod and press and do whatever other uncomfortable procedure they deem necessary. Of course, after all the prodding and answers I give them, they all walk out of the room just as baffled as they entered. Of course, I would expect nothing less from doctors that have had absolutely no experience with my illness that has had no diagnosis for 20+ years.
After what seems like an unending line of idiots, my knight in shining armor (white lab coat??) appeared. He is the attending physician and while he understands that this may be above his head, his interest is not in setting me free, but in getting to the bottom of whatever was causing the issue. I remember him very distinctly because he was the only one in that place that made any sense to me. He was the only one who spoke with any sense of urgency. I believe his name is Dr. Kemed. Aside from his doctor clothes, he really didn’t look like a doctor. Short, pasty-white, intentionally shaved head, even an earring in his ear. He kind of looks like Chris Daughtry if he had decided to become a doctor instead of a rock star (did I just admit to listening to Daughtry?); just shorter and with less eyeliner.
Instead of trying to discharge me and was the hospital’s hands of this problem child, he insisted that I remain in the hospital for my own safety and that he would try to have me transferred to UPENN ASAP to see Dr. Stadtmauer (the hematologist that had been studying my issues for 3 years). Great, right? My prayers have been answered! Wrong. UPENN does not accept hematology transfers on the weekend save for acute leukemia patients. Dr. Kemed and one of his associates said they would see if they can pull some strings and make some phone calls and get me transferred and have this if not taken care of, at least looked at. All I had to do was sit tight (as if I had another choice).
While these two fine doctors try to call in favors or promise favors or whatever doctors do when they push their problems onto their friends, the douchatologist comes in revealing what we already knew. With every transfusion, the platelet count increased, but with every hour that passed, the number would diminish. Great deduction, jack ass. Tell us something we don’t know. Please. Anything. Have it be the weather, the color of your eyes, your birthday. Anything to justify the bill your office is going to send my insurance company for this bedside visit here. Anyway.. Another bag of orange juice was in order and he went on his merry way. Wonderful.
After a few hours (which was passed wonderfully with more visitors. Anita’s family was wonderful enough to come in and visit… And bring KFC. My God, do I love KFC), I learn the results of the doctors’ attempts to parcel me off to UPENN. Nothing. There would be no way for UPENN to break with policy and free up a bed for someone not having complications from Leukemia. Isn’t that just selfish? I mean, come on people! I WAS BLEEDING FROM MY GUMS! Haha. I’m just kidding. Totally understandable. They need to keep beds open in the hematology ward for people that really deserve them. I would have to wait until Monday to be transferred. It is Sunday at this point, so one more day without some sort of medical disaster and at least I would be someplace with people that were familiar with my condition.
Monday comes. More orange juice, terrible hospital food (seriously… Thank God for Anita’s parents bringing me KFC. I can’t say that I wouldn’t have survived without it… But I also can’t say that I would have survived without it… You decide), and one final blow to the jugular. The douchatalogist walks in with a smugness about him as if he had just accomplished some great feat. Guess what? The hospital is sending me home. Yep. They had brought my platelet count above 50,000 and they could now legally release me. Doesn’t that sound great? After an entire weekend of doctors telling me how dangerous my situation is and that any number of normal every day activities can lead to my death, now I get to go home and partake in those normal every day activities! Hooray!
Needless to say (but I will), I am completely horrified by this news. What kind of practice is this? Scare the pants off the patient into believing anything beyond the hospital walls can kill him and then… Release him beyond those hospital walls?!? I am horrified while everyone else involved on my side is furious. We don’t even get a say in the matter. One of the doctors tries one last plea to UPENN to no avail. With a platelet count above 50,000, no one even thinks my insurance would pay to have me transferred to UPENN because.. Well.. They legally don’t have to. Ain’t our health system grand? Of course, in hind sight nothing happened and everything worked out fine, but at the time, it was just absolutely infuriating.
So, I am released. A weekend sojourn to the Pocono Medical Center was concluded only to be followed by what I fear to be endless out patient testing at UPENN. I toy with the idea of writing an email to Dr. Stadtmauer at UPENN asking (read:begging) him to admit me so that I (and whoever else.. or rather EVERYONE else involved) would not have to travel between either The Poconos and Philadelphia and/or my mother’s house in Somerset, NJ and Philadelphia. Also, if I was going to be an outpatient, I would have to return to work and that would just have been a scheduling nightmare. And for what it’s worth, I just wanted this whole thing to be over. Spending another who-knows-how-many days driving back and forth to UPENN to get whatever tests they wanted me to take would drive me crazy. I just wanted to stay there, let them poke and prod me for however many days they deemed fit and have this be done with once and for all. Through the grace of my job and my boss, I would be eligible for short term disability for up to six months (granted I didn’t think I’d need anywhere near that long) and not have to worry about my salary or losing my job. It just seemed to make sense. Let’s just hope Dr. Stadtmauer sees it the same way.
I write the email first thing when I get home. If nothing else, with all the thoughts of danger swirling around my head, it feels good to be home. It feels good to sleep in my own bed. It feels good to be surrounded by my stuff and not tubes, dinging monitors, nurse call bells, and strangers in white lab coats. Much to my amazement, the next day Dr. Stadtmauer replies to my email. I wrote him a long plea trying to tug at his heart strings in explaining my situation and my frustration with my condition seemingly deteriorating. The email must’ve translated to two and a half pages of whiny drivel. Maybe even more. I’m actually surprised he read it. I wonder if he made it all the way through. Thankfully, his reply was short and much more succinct.
He simply wrote that he remembered me and to bring my bag to my appointment as he was going to have me admitted to the hospital and we were going to get to the bottom of this starting that following Wednesday (7/15/09) at 12:00pm. Success.
To be continued…
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