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Woes. The Young Lady needs to get her wisdom teeth removed.

This isn't a big surprise (my husband and his sister, and I and my sister, all had to have that done), but it was already looking like a busy summer. And she's never had a serious medical procedure - not even a single stitch or an ilness worse than the flu in 16 years. So she's not feeling very brave about it.



May. 8th, 2008 07:05 am (UTC)
Heh, and that's still not my worst medical-messup horror story; the one that takes the cake is when I broke my leg and dealt with just such an absolute clusterfuck of incompetence and callous treatment at the hospital the ambo took me too that I still get kind of enraged telling the story, almost a decade later. Starting with the ER admission where I had to lay around for hours whimpering on a gurney before anyone saw me...OK, it was an urban ER late on a Saturday night, there were folks with stab wounds and gunshots and the like who needed more immediate attention, I was hurting but not in any immediate danger, that's all fair enough triage -- but the dude bitching about how my nail polish made it impossible to use the fingertip pulse monitor thingy was totally out of line, in a neighborhood with that many nail salons there is NO FREAKIN' WAY they'd never had to deal with nail polish before -- get some damn acetone at the dollar store already! And my poor BF of the day shouldn't have had to go begging to multiple people in white coats before he finally managed to get someone to at least give me some goddamn Tylenol and a cup of water. And then there were all the nurses who kept insisting on giving me painkiller injections intramuscularly, even though they were excruciatingly, lingeringly painful and less effective that way, and I already HAD AN IV SHUNT IN MY HAND for the damn things -- a few of them did the proper IV routine initially and a few others relented when I pointed out the shunt and the fact that the other nurses used it, but there were a couple of nasty bitches who just refused to take the extra minutes involved to flush the lines with saline; it was their way or no meds, and I was hurting too badly from the unset fracture to put up a proper fight. Oh, did I mention that despite repeated attempts over several days, they never did manage to set the break properly, even when they finally said they did? I had to get it redone by a different orthopedist after I checked myself out ahead of schedule and against the smarmy, condescending social worker's advice -- they wanted me to stay for another day or two of PT and supervised lessons on dealing with the cast and crutches and all, but the PT staff were nasty too and at this point I'd had enough run-ins with the bitchier nurses that there was not an injection site left on my body that wasn't painful and tender from the damn IM injections (and in fact one of the upper arm injections was done so badly that it wound up abcessing, and I have a lovely dime-sized keloid on my left bicep now to remember the experience by...). Oh, and did I mention that when they "set" my leg that last time, they casted it in about eleventy-squillion pounds of plaster...not just old-fashioned, but so badly and heavily done that the orthopedist I went to after I escaped was shocked at what a shoddy job it was? Or the screwed-up paperwork -- they messed up my prescriptions so badly the first time they were written that my poor BF got dirty looks from the pharmacist for suspicion of trying to get narcotics illegitimately, and they couldn't even manage the paperwork properly -- they kept sending me bills for things my insurance company had long since paid, *months* after the fact. They got increasingly nasty notes from me each time I had to send them the same damn documentation showing they were in the wrong...

*deep breath*

Not that I'm BITTER or anything, oh no.

And this was supposed to be a TEACHING hospital! Terrfying, eh?

Don't get me wrong, there were a few people who were competent kind, and helpful -- the resident who finally got cornered for Tylenol, a few of the nurses, the X-ray tech that first night was super-nice, and even the orthopedist who screwed up the last round of setting my leg at least had a reasonably pleasant manner, even if he apparently couldn't handle a freakin' simple tib/fib spiral fracture. But the callous-to-cruel-to-incompetent types vastly outnumbered them. If I'm ever downtown and in need of emergency care again for some reason, I'd sooner go to one of the excellent local ER vets before I'd let myself be taken to that place again...
May. 8th, 2008 03:39 pm (UTC)
Oh. My. God.

I would still be enraged about that too.
May. 9th, 2008 01:43 am (UTC)

Downtown here????

That's really appalling! Usually teaching hospitals are better because the doctors get asked questions and so actually have to think about what they're doing. But I guess there are exceptions to every rule. I'm just so sorry you had to deal with that!

May. 9th, 2008 02:00 am (UTC)
Eeeeeeyep. HUH, summer of '98. When the scandal broke two years back about the storm of negligence that led to David Rosenbaum's death in the ER, I was sooooo unsurprised at all the dirt that came out about his treatment. :(

I'd expected much better from a teaching hospital, too, since my one prior experience back in Philly, seeing a friend treated at U. Penn for massive trauma from a hit-and-run, was thoroughly impressive. But Penn's an Ivy with all the funding and hiring power that goes with it, and it probably didn't hurt matters any that Adam was one of their own -- premed student, hit in an intersection a block away from school walking to the subway after class, with his professor and the prof's girlfriend, both MDs, right on the scene for immediate first aid seconds after the crash, and it's not as if the ambulance had very far to drive!
May. 9th, 2008 07:17 pm (UTC)

Karl went to Penn ... .

I used to take myself to GW when I needed emergency care, back before I had a car - when I sliced my hand open on a broken glass, for example, and when a bug flew into my eye and scratched my cornea. (I guess I should have included those in my list of incidents, below, but they weren't actual hospitalizations ... .) And I accompanied my parents (in the ambulance) to WHC and Suburban (in Bethesda), various times.

With the cornea incident, once I could see, I realized that the ophthalmological resident who was overseeing my treatment had been in my high school graduating class!

May. 10th, 2008 04:36 am (UTC)
*nod* The leg was the only time I've been hospitalized; all the other minor surgical bits I've dealt with, the wisdom teeth and suspicious moles getting carved off and the like, have been just little outpatient-under-local deals. Other than that I've been in the ER twice for severe allergic reactions, once as a child for a bit involving massive hives but at least no breathing problems, and the scarier one a few years back where the airways were actualy closing up along with the skin reactions. That last one was sure a major contrast with the treatment I got at HUH, mind you -- it was the Inova in, ummm, Fairfax IIRC, and while there were quite a few folks sitting about the waiting room, they did NOT mess around when they heard the magic words "anaphylaxis" and saw my lovely dead-gray complexion under all the hives -- I was whisked right off to an oxygen mask and IV epinephrine and benadryl, and they didn't even bother asking any of the usual insurance questions for at least half an hour or so, when they were fairly sure I was stabilizing and no longer about to keel over.
May. 11th, 2008 02:03 am (UTC)

Yeah, Fairfax is where they took me for the angioplasty. Arlington now has a big, modern cardiac center, but they didn't back then (1989). I was taken over in an ambulance - during rush hour! O.o; I was impressed by the ambulance crew: they were all of the same physical type, male and female, chunky, muscular, and not too tall, and all of the same blunt, rough-around-the-edges Gojyo-esque sympathetic personality.


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