I had disappeared recently for a spell, but probably not noticed by any.
It wasnāt for very long, but it is a hell of a story (isnāt it always?) I was around a little at the beginning of last week, but since Wednesday til this evening, I was bouncing in and out and back in and out of the hospital, once again, and once again before a major surgery.
I just told the story to @JustTim thru text, and instead of typing the whole thing all over again, I am going to just copy most of it into this post, but will probably add some extra detail that is easily left out when texting.
So, I have my left knee replacement surgery on April 1st. IDK what it is, but it seems like every time I have a major surgery or even coming up, I end up back in the hospital for a few days.
This one starts out funny, but really sad. Funny because it is hysterical, sad, because it is 100% true, with no exxageration (that I know of).
Starts of really hysterical. I think it was last Monday night, early Tuesday morning sometime when I had a strange dream, and rolled off my bed and smacked on the hard laminate wood floor, landing on the right side of my body. Ok, yeah, thats a little funny, and sad because true, but it gets funnier and sadder as the story goes on.
On Tuesday I had to get my chest Xray for the pre op orders, and Wednesday I had blood drawn, and my bladder emptied. On Tuesday I was feeling a little discomfort and told my mom about falling out of bed (which was actually so bad that I had to call to my roommate to come help me get up and back into my bed). on Wednesday I was feeling it, but I couldnāt tell if it was getting better or worse, so I just ran with it.
I made it til Thursday night (or Friday morning, it was late, but I donāt remember when I actually woke up in agonizing pain, so bad I was considering calling 911) and eventually had the paramedics come all the way from across the parking lot of my apartment complex (yes, the fire station is right there) and load me on the guorney and load me in the Ambulence. at the time, the cotton lounge pants and tee shirt I was wearing didnāt seem like it wold be a big deal, but it sure was.
They asked me if I wanted to go to Hoag, or another hospital. Reluctantly, I said, ok, take me to Hoag. After waking up in 4 point restraints there last September before my last knee replacement, and demanding I get moved to another hospital, I was told it was 2 am on Sunday, I would have to wait til later in the morning if I wanted a transfer, and they asked if they should put the restraints back on, or would I play nice. I said, sure, give me a couple shots of happy juice, and I will play nice for a while, so they did, and I went back to sleep and when I woke up, I was now in a normal hospital room, not in the ICU / hostile patient wing, with a lovely woman that wanted to hear why I wanted to leave the hospital and not stay here to get treated. I told her to pull up my file, and start reading it off to me and I will tell you what the real story is, which she happily did, and about 2 hours later I was enjoying the best hospital stay I had at Hoag in the past 10 or 15 years, because my file is so messed up, they treat me like a mad dog every time I go there.
Well, she changed that, and I had a chance to put it to the test about 5 days later when for some reason or another my mother talked me into going to the ER and letting them check me out. Again, I was reluctant to go to Hoag, but I did anyhow, and I had the best experience from start to finish I have ever had there, so it seems that lovely doctor (whoās name I canāt spell but sounds like Dr. Iancalescue) had actually managed to get my file changed, and that I would no longer be treated like shit at Hoag again.
So
This time when the paramedics asked if I wanted to go to Hoag, I said, sure, why not, letās give it a shot, I mean, they should treat me like any patient that comes in right? one would think that is not too much to ask, but apparently it is.
To say it was the wrong choice is an understatement if the highest regard.
It was right back to them treating me like a stray dog that didnāt matter.
They were short and rude, didnāt ask any questions, avoided answering any of mine, and practically told me to shut up and let the professionals work.
So,
they took Xrays, similar to what I did for my chest X-ray pre op, but they also did quite a few more, and did some with me holding my arms in different position, and then sent me back to me ER room, where I waited without a word for about 15 minutes.
15 min later the main nurse came back to my room, said I had one broken rib, and that it looks like I have had at least 4 other broken ribs in the past, so those are probably bruised too.
Ok, I said it would be Funny, and Sad, and so far it has not been much of either, but I am just getting started.
Ok, whatās next I ask?
Nothing, you are discharged, sign here and leave.
(Ok, that would be hysterical if it was not completely true, which it was)
So, I did not want to sign, I had questions, and I was still under the impression they were going to treat me for my injury, so when she came back in the room to collect the paper, I had not signed it, and she wanted to know why. I told her I had questions, and felt I deserved answers, and at least some sort of treatment.
She walked out of the room, came back in 2 minutes later and said I needed to get out of the room.
I said wait, I have questions, and she said, I donāt have to talk to you anymore, you are discharged.
I said, um, no, not yet technically, I have not signed anything.
Side note
I just happened to be in one room with a room right next to me, and two rooms across from me with incarcerated patients, and there were about 4 cops per room, standing right in the doorway of my room pretty much.
So when I told her I wouldnāt sign this until I got some answers and possible treatment, one of the officers told me, we need this room for incarcerated patients, so you will need to talk to her somewhere else.
I wasnāt about to argue with them over that, so I walked out of the room and walked up to the nursing station, but she would not talk to me there either, she said if I want her to talk to me, I am going to have to sign the paperwork and we have to go somewhere else to talk.
I said, fine, but I am not signing til we talk.
She walked me thru this door and this hall and this door, and right back into the ER waiting room, which at first I thought was her way of just kicking me out, but she took me to a closed off section and sat down and let me ask her questions.
First I asked her name, which she gave, but I asked for her last name, and she told me she is not obligated to give out that information. So I asked her shift managers name, and she told me a firsts name and again, held off the last name. I finally asked for her badge or employee number, and she rattled one off, but I have not had a chance to follow up on it as of yet to see if it is even real.
Every question I asked her she dogged, redirected, played dumb or flat out lied.
For instance, āwhy are you not treating me for pain, I have broken and bruised ribs and I am in very much painā.
Dogged - you can have tramadol
Wrong, not before a surgery, oh, but you donāt know I am having knee replacement next week do you, cuz you didnāt listen to anything I told you.
Re directed
-you have a history of drug abuse.
You get an A+++++ for that one there, but what is it, you think people with addiction disorder disease deserve to be in pain when any other patient would be made to feel comfortable with an injury like this?
BESIDES, I said, there are other non narcotic things you can do that would be 20 times better then the narcotic ones, but it requires you to keep me in the hospital for at least a few hours
So, Why not give me ketamine.
Flat out lie.
We dont do that here.
Wrong, I have that treatment, and had done in pretty much that same bed i was just in.
At this point She got very defensive, being that I was taking notes, and asking her things that she either didnāt know, or didnāt expect me to know. She got to the point where she all but threatened to call the cops on me and started to make a scene, so I quickly signed it for her, and asked her now what, you are just throwing me on the street? I donāt even have any shoes? arenāt you required to call me an Uber.
She pretty much said, there is the door, and walked in the back.
I certainly didnāt expect to see her come back out and do any favors for me, and after a few minutes the hospital security was treating me like I was loitering, so, at 4 something in the morning, I walked 2 miles home with a broken rib and 1 to 4 bruised ones.
See, Funny as hell, and SAD, oh so sad people actually treat others like this, especially ones that are in the medical profession.
So, before I left, I did sign her damn paper, but got her name and work number, and her bosses number, plus my discharge paperwork which proves that they found broken ribs and refused me treatment.
Plus my cousinās friend works in that unit at that hospital, and is putting together everything I need to file a grievance against that hospital for this incident alone.
Sadly, that is not the only grievance I need to file, because less then 24 hours later, I was back, but this time taken to Hoag against my will, and dropped off as an overdose / suicide victim.
There is a whole other story behind that part, some funny, much infuriating, and I ended up in the hospital, pretty much held captive for the weekend until about 10am this Monday morning.
I am tired after typing that, and obviously my ribs are hurting like hell, so I am gonna have to tell the rest of the story later, but I will leave you with the.
I did not overdose, I didnāt even misuse my medication, I used it as prescribed, and when in the middle of Friday night or Saturday morning, when my ribs hurt so bad and I had already taken the max daily dose of pain medication from my doctor, I called 911 again, asking for help, and I was IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM TRYING TO COMMIT SUICIDE. I just want to make that clear.
But this time they came in with what seemed like an agenda, and messed things up, took many of my prescription medication (that I need like blood pressure) and made it look like I took the whole bottle of prescribed pain meds (20 pills) so they forced me into the tourney, even when I was not resisting, and strapped me in so tightly they further damaged my ribs, then they started using Naloxone on me, while I was wide awake, and completely coherent, and asking them to please not use Naloxone on me, ,but I am sure they did so that when they write their report they can say that I was overdosing and they had to use it to save my life, which I was trying to take by swallowing the whole bottle.
The funny thing is, I could actually swallow that whole bottle, and I would get high, but I would be ready for more in a couple hours, I would be nowhere near the point that I needed narcan nasal spray to bring me back from it.
But thats how they are going to write it up, its too bad I donāt get a chance to show them how dead wrong they are.
