Forrest General is Trying to Kill My Husband
All this started with a head cold. Next thing you know, they're telling Tim he's had a recent heart attack and failed to notice it. Seven hours later he was being admitted to the hospital, having spent 5 hours in the ER WHERE HE WAS GIVEN THE WRONG MEDICATION and then diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism. Two days and a shit ton of tests later, they reveal that either this embolism magically disintegrated within 24 hours or was never there to begin with. Guess which one I'm leaning towards?
They finally discharged him after around 48 hours in the hospital, after deciding that it was all for nothing to begin with, and told him he'd still need to have something called a cardiac cta done a week later because they still didn't know what was causing the blip on his EKG. In other words, they sent him home with a big question to ponder: Is there something wrong with your heart, or is it just another one of our fuckups? So he spent five days obsessing over this, wondering if something's wrong with his heart, and wishing they could hurry up and get this shit explained already-- preferably without misdiagnosing him or giving him the wrong medicine again.
So Friday finally rolls around, and Tim goes in for this heart test. First, they spent a long, long time trying to find a good enough vein to inject the dye. This apparently has to be done through a vein really, really close to the heart, but nobody can ever find a vein on Tim, especially in places where they'd be hard to find on anyone, like the top of the arm. So after he'd been there a couple of hours and they grew weary of sticking him, they called in a guy with an ultrasound machine to find a vein deep in his arm. They numbed him with lidocaine and did something called a micropuncture, which is where they stick a gigantic needle in you to find a vein that's really deep, then stick a catheter into it. I wasn't there to see it, but it sounded more like a medieval torture practice than something you'd expect to encounter in a 21st century hospital just to inject some freaking dye for a CT.
So they finally get this big ass thing stuck in him, then decide that his heart rate is too high. Mine would be too after all that, I'm sure. Then-- THEN the nurse decides to ask the question, "Have you had any caffeine in the last 12 hours?" Nobody had told Tim NOT to drink any caffeine, and he didn't think about it, so of course he drank his customary Diet Coke that morning. Because of that, they told him they couldn't do the test that day. So three hours after arriving-- after being poked and stuck and numbed and stuck some more-- they decide to ask the question they should've asked before he ever made it past the front desk, and end up pulling the giant needle out of him and sending him home to wait for FIVE MORE DAYS.
Oh yeah, they did give him a $10 gift certificate to the hospital canteen for his inconvenience. As Tim said, "I guess I won't be buying any cokes with it."
Bastards. Incompetent, piece of shit, bastard coated bastards with bastard filling.
They finally discharged him after around 48 hours in the hospital, after deciding that it was all for nothing to begin with, and told him he'd still need to have something called a cardiac cta done a week later because they still didn't know what was causing the blip on his EKG. In other words, they sent him home with a big question to ponder: Is there something wrong with your heart, or is it just another one of our fuckups? So he spent five days obsessing over this, wondering if something's wrong with his heart, and wishing they could hurry up and get this shit explained already-- preferably without misdiagnosing him or giving him the wrong medicine again.
So Friday finally rolls around, and Tim goes in for this heart test. First, they spent a long, long time trying to find a good enough vein to inject the dye. This apparently has to be done through a vein really, really close to the heart, but nobody can ever find a vein on Tim, especially in places where they'd be hard to find on anyone, like the top of the arm. So after he'd been there a couple of hours and they grew weary of sticking him, they called in a guy with an ultrasound machine to find a vein deep in his arm. They numbed him with lidocaine and did something called a micropuncture, which is where they stick a gigantic needle in you to find a vein that's really deep, then stick a catheter into it. I wasn't there to see it, but it sounded more like a medieval torture practice than something you'd expect to encounter in a 21st century hospital just to inject some freaking dye for a CT.
So they finally get this big ass thing stuck in him, then decide that his heart rate is too high. Mine would be too after all that, I'm sure. Then-- THEN the nurse decides to ask the question, "Have you had any caffeine in the last 12 hours?" Nobody had told Tim NOT to drink any caffeine, and he didn't think about it, so of course he drank his customary Diet Coke that morning. Because of that, they told him they couldn't do the test that day. So three hours after arriving-- after being poked and stuck and numbed and stuck some more-- they decide to ask the question they should've asked before he ever made it past the front desk, and end up pulling the giant needle out of him and sending him home to wait for FIVE MORE DAYS.
Oh yeah, they did give him a $10 gift certificate to the hospital canteen for his inconvenience. As Tim said, "I guess I won't be buying any cokes with it."
Bastards. Incompetent, piece of shit, bastard coated bastards with bastard filling.
Incompetent fu*kwads.
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Anonymous |
12:37 PM