FROM MY HOSPITAL NOTES
About 1AM, the night nurse WOKE Our Girl <<the patient>> up to tell her that “they needed her ADVANCED DIRECTIVE. BEFORE they could do the procedure today.”
(<Expletive Deleted> are you <synonym for excrement output> me! How many copies have I given RWJUHNB over the past 5 years and you can’t find ANY of them.)
So, now, Our Girl is upset. Is this procedure more dangerous due to the low platelets? Why are they asking for it now? Has the leukemia gotten worse? And what am I supposed to do at 1AM in the morning? Should I wake up the PA <<meaning me, the spouse>> who probably just went to sleep? Argh!
(Actually I was still awake.)
SOoo at 5:50AM, she calls PA. I’m dead out, but I hear the phone. Now, I start think: “Oh <excrement> what’s gone wrong now!” I answer the phone but she’s hung up. I’m looking at the caller id to see who called. Then, my cell phone starts to ring in its charging station in the “office” bedroom. So I stub my big toe running to catch it.
(THink of your favorite Marx Brother’s movie)
It’s Our Girl, who’s royally <synonym for urine output> off and relates the whole tale.
Now, I’m starting to worry. Why now, what’s changed since last night at 9pm. Is this just bureaucratic stupidity? No going back to sleep now.
(My toe still <Expletive Deleted> hurts.)
When I was on the phone, I couldn’t remember where the <Expletive Deleted> the papers were. I know that the originals are safely in the safe. But those are legal size and I don’t have a legal size copier. I know that they are on the website in a password protected directory but I haven’t used it in years. I should have a copy in the “medical records” bag but I haven’t looked for it in a year.
So, now I’m cranked.
Yeah, the form’s copies were where they were supposed to be in the bag in the patient’s room all the time.
Keep reading. It gets better!
I arrive around 730AM with the forms, (and coffee). (I’m going to need a LOT of coffee to stay awake today.) Our Girl says “don’t give them; make them ask”.
The morning proceeds, she goes for the test, and the routine rambles on.
Yup, you guessed it. NO ONE EVER ASKED!
Wait it gets better yet.
The “nurse manager” for the floor comes around two days later “conducting a patient satisfaction survey”. By now, Our Girl has had two days to stew and brew. Now, she RARELY complains or asks for anything in the hospital. She feels genuinely upset to be imposing on the hospital workers. BUTT (there’s always a big but) this is an exception. She vents it all out. Chapter and verse. And this manager says: “Oh, X is pregnant and has ‘baby brain’.”
Talk about volcanic eruption! Pour some case on the smoldering camp fire why don’t you? It was almost out and you have now mad eit ten times worse. Our Girl ended with: “Then she should be working in a file room somewhere; not tending to patients.” Nurse Manager shrugs her shoulder, thanks Our Girl for her input, and departs.
Our Girl is STILL <synonym for urine output> off and has it stuck in her craw!
And, I’m still amazed at the stupidity of all involved, the poorly designed processes, and the technology failure to capture and prevent.
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