How American Hospitals are Failing Patients

A patient loses confidence in local hospital care

Hospital Report – Patient Care

I’m going to do what I expect Traveling4Health members to do; write a review when I receive any noteworthy medical services so that others can benefit from my experience.

In this case, it’s a review of an American hospital; the result of waking up in the wee hours of the morning with intense chest pain and an ambulance ride to Auburn Regional Medical Center in Auburn, WA.

Unfortunately, it’s not a positive review.  Basically I’m a “think positive” person and certainly not looking to write an exposé.  But, in good faith, I am going to share why I feel I lost confidence in my local hospital.

On Monday, Dec. 12, 2011, I called 911 and was taken by ambulance to Auburn Regional Medical Center in Washington State.  My symptoms were pain in my chest and solar-plexus area; right exactly where the needle had been inserted for the liver biopsy three days previously at the same hospital.

The short story is that, after my blood tests and chest X-ray had come back negative, I was told by a nurse, “You’re going home”.  I was being released from the emergency room regardless of pain symptoms I was exhibiting.

I was scared

At the time of my dismissal, I was experiencing the onset of a second episode of the same symptoms.  So, I asked to see the attending emergency-room doctor.  In an attempt to have a meaningful conversation with her, I began journaling the time, severity and type of pain I was experiencing, which escalated to a 7 on a 1-10 scale by the time she came to talk to me.

I was surprised at her apparent disinterest in my symptoms or in granting my request that the doctor who had done the biopsy be informed of my symptoms.  Instead, she left and had the nurse give me a GI cocktail, which felt like a “wave-off” and certainly did not touch the pain.

At this point, I felt I was in danger.  I wanted to talk to my personal doctor or to the doctor who had performed the biopsy.  Something was obviously wrong, and I didn’t feel safe going home.

Picture this . . .hunched-over in pain, I got out of bed and walked to the nurses’ station to ask if they would connect me to my doctor’s office in the same building.  They said they could not.  But they gave me the telephone number and instructed me to use the phone in my room.

The phone in my room didn’t work.

So, here I am wandering around empty rooms in the emergency ward, trying to find a working phone.

I found a phone and dialed my doctor’s office, but when I was left on hold for several minutes I started to feel panicky.  So, I hung up and called my son for help.

Thank goodness my son advocated for me, and he was with me when we met, again, with the Emergency Room doctor.

My son explained we were not questioning her as a medical professional, but that she could expect us to ask questions about my symptoms and talk about the tests that were run, etc.

I had questions about there was going to be communication between the emergency room doctor, the doctor who had performed the biopsy, the doctor who would be seeing me after I was admitted to the hospital, and whether my personal doctor even knew I was there.

Shortly thereafter, I was given a low dose of Morphine and admitted to the hospital.  My son and I were told it was hospital policy for the emergency room doctor not to discuss my case with my personal doctor or any other doctors in the hospital.  She said something to the effect of, “I don’t discuss my opinion with any other doctors or make any recommendations to the doctors in the hospital.  I don’t want to influence their analysis.”

Her statement might be logical from the perspective of not wanting to step on another doctor’s toes; “one captain” attitude and all that.  But from the perspective of patient care, the compartmentalization creates an absence of medical triage that makes no sense at all.  I learned later that the lack of triage with the biopsy department was a breach of hospital procedure.

I lost confidence in the hospital

During my over-night stay on the out-patient ward, I saw more examples of compartmentalization which caused me to question my care.

Wrong Medication; just how dangerous could it have been?

Late that evening, a night nurse came in with a needle (a very long needle), and announced she was going to give me a shot in my stomach.

Whoa, I said.  What for?

She explained it was to reduce the risk of blood clots in my legs.  When I asked what was in the shot, she said the operative word “blood thinner.”  I quickly explained to her that I was told by the doctor who did my liver biopsy not to take any medication with a blood thinner, not even an aspirin, for five days following the biopsy.  She replied, “oh”, and left without giving me the shot.

Great, I thought; this is scary “the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing.  Thank goodness I asked questions.

Breakdown in hospital protocol.

I told everyone from the EMT’s, ER nurses and doctors, and the hospital specialist and nurses on the out-patient floor that the pain was emanating from the area of the liver biopsy; I pin-pointed the area around the solar plexus, right where the biopsy needle had been inserted.

Nevertheless, the biopsy department was never informed by hospital doctors or staff that I was in the hospital.  The hospital specialist did order an ultrasound of the biopsy area for the day following my admittance.  When the radiologist showed up to do the ultra sound, I told her about the biopsy.  She was indignant that she (or her department) hadn’t been alerted when I first came into the Emergency Room.  According to her, the hospital had not followed protocol, and she told me she was going to report the incident.

I confided to her that the break-down in protocol extended to whoever had phoned me the day before, as a courtesy follow-up call, to see how I was faring after the biopsy.  I had informed the lady on the phone that I was in the Emergency Room with symptoms that might have to do with the biopsy; but obviously that information was not passed on.

Ouch, I thought; time to get out of here.  Luckily my pain had not recurred since around 5pm the evening of my hospital admittance.  I asked to be dismissed and went home with a prescription for Percocet.

A Wakeup Call

What I would share with other members is what I learned about the limits of a “personal relationship with your doctor”.

Did I mention that the reason I had the ambulance take me to Auburn Regional is because that’s where my doctor’s office is?  I have immense respect for my doctor, and I took some comfort in knowing that my doctor was close by.

Silly me, I expected that being close to my own doctor was a plus.  I might as well have been in Kansas or Costa Rica.  Apparently a good doctor/patient relationship has value for annual checkups and wellness strategy. . .  but in an emergency situation, forget it; You’re on your own, set adrift with strangers who do not know any more about you and your medical history than the information gathered (under duress) on your medical intake form.

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