Spreading the love. :)

Or spreading fertilizer.
Ha.
We'll see.

I got an email from the person who's supposed to be in charge of quality at the hospital level. She told me that they're also looking into what happened at the clinic level. As they should.

But the stuff I sent to her only addresses the Mongolian Clusterfuck that was my ER experience.

So I sat down this afternoon and wrote up what happened in more or less chronological order.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although I feel let down by Dr. P because I didn't feel like she listened to me originally, the problems were greatly compounded by the way the staff behaved in their interactions with me while Dr. P was on vacation.

So when my dose of Metoprolol was doubled (after we'd established that it wasn't working in the first place) and my blood pressure shot up into a very dangerous range, I called the clinic for help.

I told the receptionist what was going on.

She had me talk to Diana after waiting on hold for about 10 minutes, long enough to listen to booming exhortations to quit smoking, lose weight, and get a good night's sleep over and over and over, punctuated by an obnoxiously loud male voice thanking me for my patience and a discordant clanging in between it all that I think is supposed to be music.

I'll bet you could lower people's blood pressure by giving them an option to NOT have to listen to that stuff. Holy cow, what an annoying bunch of noise. Over and over and over.

When I told Diana how high my blood pressure was, she told me that I should not take it so often.

"Your blood pressure fluctuates during the day according to your activity level," she told me. "So don't take your blood pressure readings so much."
Let's go over that again.

I was put on medication that didn't work. The dosage was doubled because of that, sending my readings into the stratosphere and leaving me in fear for my life.

And when I called for help, Diana told me I was taking my blood pressure 'too often'.

I won't even address her patronizing tone.
I doubt she was even aware of it, I bet she talks to everyone that way.

But medically speaking, she didn't do her job. At all.

I clearly stated that I wished to stop taking the medication and asked for directions on how to do so.

She told me someone would call back, but no one did until Thursday of that week, more than 48 hours after I asked for help. I did not wait for that call, I looked up the medication and found instructions on the Mayo clinic website. I was well into the process by the time I finally got a call back.

That Friday night was my first trip to the ER.

I seriously thought I was dying. I can't even tell you how horrible I felt.

So I called the clinic for assistance with the issues.

Often, when people who deal with the general public start speaking to them in the condescending and dismissive way various staff spoke to me over the phone, it's either time for retraining, a vacation, or a whole new job.

I could literally hear the eyeroll in the sarcastic comment, "Well, the ER said your blood pressure was stable," when I called to follow up and maybe get some help with what was going on. When I pressed the issue (which I should absolutely not have had to do) she further dismissed me by telling me there was a discrepancy between my readings and theirs.

To which I should have answered, "SO WHAT???"

But now I'm feeling okay, I haven't been through a series of life-threatening drugs tossed at me like candy since then.

I haven't been up all night (TWICE!! In a WEEK!) in an unfamiliar place while more 'professionals' acted like I was an idiot and tried to enlist my husband in acting like I was playing some kind of game, which is what happened in the ER.

And I am furious.

Angry with the lack of concern, the shrugging 'who really cares' attitude and the fact that if I had listened to the crap tossed at me everywhere I went for assistance and continued taking the medications, I could have DIED. It's not an exaggeration. It's a fact which no one seems able to grasp.

The medications, one after the other after the other after the other threatened my life. The effects (and don't call them 'side effects in my presence) were terrible.

No one I talked to seemed too concerned.

Where's the compassion?

Where's that promise to care?

I sure didn't see it.

Here's the thing. I could call every day with a different issue, or even act like a jerk every time I'm in the clinic. (I do neither of those things, by the way) and they would still need to treat me with respect.

That is their job, and some of them aren't able to do that and should probably find another line of work.

Like it or not (I don't like it) I am stuck using Providence for my medical care.

What would I like to see as a resolution?

I would like people to see every word I've written about our interactions.

I would like them to understand that every single patient they interact with is a PERSON, deserving of kindness, compassion, and to make a serious effort to HELP them.

No one should have to be afraid for their life, call for help and be dismissed with, "You're taking your blood pressure too often."

And even if you feel like the person is wrong or somehow doesn't deserve your care, keep the condescension out of your interactions.

And then get a different job.

Thanks,