What happens when you go to an ER? You expect to be taken care of. Same thing goes for when you visit a doctor. The profession is about helping people, after all…isn’t it?
I blogged before that on October 6, I had to be admitted into Stanford ER. It was my third emergency room visit…of the week. Because I was gasping for air at the time, all the attendants around were freaking out. I wrote that blood tests were immediately done. It turns out that I was mistaken.
Today, as we were trying to collect all my medical records for my upcoming appointment on the 21st with Stanford’s Neurology department, the truth came out. My blood tests weren’t available for me…because they had never been processed. According the ER nurse, the “primary neurologist” (which I assume to be Dr. Sun, since he’s been the only official neurologist I’ve had so far, and is the same doctor who lied to me about Lexapro being a muscle relaxant, refused to refer me to psychologists and psychiatrists even though he would prescribe me the medication, and falsified a part of my medical records) said that new labs were unnecessary, that I already had the basics done, and they were “normal”. Since it’s Veteran’s Day, I haven’t been able to contact Dr. Sun and verify this story. It may or may not be true. In either case, nobody ever thought it would be pertinent to mention to my mother or me that no labs had been run. Everybody (my ER doctor and nurses) kept insisting that the tests were normal, and that I was fine. My question now is: what tests? And fine based on what, exactly? And even if previous tests had been run, the fact that I ended up in the ER should’ve been an indication to do more, to see what was wrong with me then. And what were we billed for, if no actual lab tests were conducted?
These are basic protocols. SIMPLE things that should have been done. Over a month has passed since then. I’ve been on four different medications, so obviously, my body has been chemically altered by now. The tests that will be done now, that were supposed to have been done before, may or may not detect what’s wrong with me. We will have to hope.
But I’ve lost time. Days where I lost the capability to use my hands or walk and days where I had difficulty breathing, all in addition to spasming. Days where I had to keep missing school and fight to keep from giving in to misery. I haven’t been working either. And this could’ve all been prevented. It might’ve all been over a long time ago, had somebody just done his/her job properly. Sure, that might’ve not been the case, but the chances are a lot more likely that I’m not a medical mystery, that I haven’t been all along, but simply a mistreated patient.
So yes, I am angry. More so than I have ever been in my entire life, that it caused me to shake from the rage, to scream in the shower, and to bawl from the memories of all that’s happened since October third. The Stanford ER doctor actually told me at the time not to go back if I started spasming again. “We can’t really help you with that, and [it] sounds like your neurologist is doing all the right things,” he observed. My mother indignantly explained that I was there because I couldn’t breathe, and he backtracked. “Oh. Well yeah, if you’re not breathing, I’m not going to tell you not to come back…”
It was a lie, though. They could’ve helped me more. And, for some reason or another, a reason that will never be good enough in my eyes, because who are they to decide that my life wasn’t worth a little extra effort, they chose not to.
There is some good which came out of this, however. I am more determined than ever to get well and live well. I am still here, and now I feel the need, more than ever, to make it count. Also, this weekend, I did travel down to LA for an unofficial consultation with the neurologist father of a friend’s friend (since no one else could officially fit me in before the 21st). He asked me if Dr. Sun was “a real neurologist” and was so appalled with the care I’d been receiving that he gave me a new prescription, which I’ve been on for two days, and seems actually to be working, unlike all the others (as prescribed by Dr. Sun and/or the ER). So I seem to finally be on the path towards recovery.
Also, I’ve learned the lesson that you cannot simply take people at their word. When it comes to medical matters, always ask for copies of the records, if not the originals themselves.
This has been a most difficult time, and it’s not over yet. At best, there’s been negligence. At worst, it’s a malpractice case in the making. But the focus for now is still to get better. I’ve weathered everything so far, and now have a new will to power through everything and anything else that comes. This will not break me. I won’t allow it to.
