Sassywho’s post about her two ectopic pregnancies - and how she was treated like day-old shit by the ER staff - has me feeling all shaken up. Not because I’m shocked at the cruelty and mistreatment she endured; but because I’m not shocked, since I know that this kind of thing is all too common, and if anything, it’s the rule rather than the exception.
And I’m angry. And I feel powerless. I hate that feeling, anger coupled with powerlessness. It’s one of the worst, and it usually sends me spiraling down one of those “what the fuck do we do and why are we here?” tunnels - and I don’t like when my train of thought heads in that direction. I don’t like the powerlessness, because it ultimately means the anger usually ends up getting turned inward and is damaging to me, so I usually have to find some other way to deal - such as distraction by focusing on good things. Some may call it sticking my head in the sand, but I call it fucking survival. What the fuck else am I going to do? Sit here and be miserable? Like it or not, I - one person - can’t change the sorry state of healthcare in this country. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop voting for the right people, and donating to the right organizations; it just means, simply, that I don’t have the magic wand I wish I had.
But, that last paragraph was a tangent. The other thing about Sassywho’s post is that it’s quite timely. Because today when we were at the hospital, I was feeling very nervous. Obviously, I was nervous simply because I wanted Rusty to be okay, and it’s hard not to be nervous when the love of your life is having surgery. But I was also nervous for another, more insidious reason: I don’t trust hospitals. I don’t trust the medical establishment in this country, in general.
I was pretty surprised at how friendly and helpful everyone we encountered was, for the most part. Then I was irritated because something that should be the expected default came as a surprise. And, when there was that one nurse in the recovery area who behaved as if we were inconveniencing her with our presence, and seemed to be trying to shoo us out of the place as quickly as possible even though Rusty was barely lucid and in quite a bit of pain - well, I thought, “Yeah, the truth comes out.” That’s how I expect it and remember it, and have experienced it. It goes without saying that the fact that I expect rudeness and dismissiveness is fucked up.
Then I started to wonder, too, if all the other staff members we dealt with - nurses, surgeon, anesthesiologist - would have been just as nice if Rusty weren’t insured. I tried to stop myself from having that thought, because I recognized how unfair it was. And I did get the feeling that many of the people we dealt with, especially the nurses, were genuinely nice, caring people. (They might not even know about patients’ insurance status or financial situation. I don’t know how that works.)
But my mind kept going back to how my dad was treated when he was in the hospital after his stroke last year: like a second class citizen, to put it bluntly. Uninsured and without a stable source of income, they treated him as an inconvenience and a liability. They were trying to get him out of there as soon as possible, and they barely made any effort to pretend otherwise. He stayed in the hospital for a way shorter period of time than he should have. Instead of physical therapy, they photocopied some pages of exercises intended for orthopedic patients and told my mom, “Have him do these.”
My mom has never liked to admit that we’re not the middle-class suburban folks I think she thinks we’re supposed to be. She does that extra-vengeful classism thing that I guess comes out of embarrassment, or guilt, or god knows what. When we were staying at the hospital with my dad, she recounted a conversation with the hospital social worker; she had made sure to stress that while he didn’t have insurance, it wasn’t because he was “lazy” or “a bum.” You know, like those people. The other people who don’t have insurance.
Eh, another tangent there. Point being… well, I don’t know what my point is, really. Just that I distrust the medical establishment in general. This is already long enough, so I won’t even get into the time I was hospitalized for depression in 2001 as a broke, just-married college student. I hope to [insert deity here] that I never have to go to the ER for something as serious as what Sassywho went through, where I literally might die because the people working there are “jaded” and “burnt out.” Excuse the fuck out of me for not giving a good goddamn.
I don’t want to end this on such a pissed off, powerless note, because like I said earlier, I don’t like that feeling, and I don’t want to be passing it along to y’all. So I’ll go stick my head in the sand now, and you do the same if you’re so inclined. Keep voting, writing letters, and donating whatever time or money you can; beyond that? Well, life’s too short to feel powerless all the time. So find the good where you can, and enjoy every nanosecond of it.
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6 Responses to "Rant: healthcare, class, and powerlessness"
amber, i have a reason for that post… i just haven’t been able to get up another post explaining why, but hearing about the 14 year old girl this week was part of it too. I will have a post up as soon as I can, but in the mean time if you know of anyone with a similar experience to mine, who has been misdiagnosed, treated poorly, or otherwise neglected in emergency room settings please have them email me their stories. There are people who are interested in doing something about this, right now it’s just on a state level but ideally I would like to see it on a federal one.
For many women who are uninsured/under-insured the emergency room is often their primary contact with a medical professional, and because of the anatomical nature of our bodies it can very often have devastating effects to have care delayed. thousands of women are being sent home from ER’s due to the assumption that women do have cardiovascular disease, in fact this is one of the reasons that makes it more fatal for women.
ER’s are still practicing hysteria medicine, diagnosing women with benign ailments such as migraines, cysts(my case), and stress/panic(such as cardiovascular disease). Looking at these common themes, and with my case… where essentially he thought I came to the ER for an abortion(i wish), sexism was very apparent.
the funny thing was, i was insured, the first hospital either didn’t believe it or care, and the second obviously did and it was not big deal. In fact, because it was a Sunday and I was clearly out of it, they didn’t get authorization until Monday afternoon when they could actually speak with me.
Sorry, Amber I didn’t mean to hijack your blog, and I’m glad that Rusty is okay.
sorry that was supposed to read “do not have cardiovascular disease”
Amber,
Thank you for posting this, and the link to sassywho’s post, because I think the issue of health insurance coverage has severe implications for our nation, which supposedly has such a high standard of living.
Recently, my husband and I had to make a decision whether we could afford to continue his private insurance coverage which will exceed $700 per month. He is a cancer survivor and, even though he is in excellent health five years after the detection and treatment of the cancer, the cost of this coverage has become prohibitive. Please note that this is a private policy that is subsidized by the state in which we reside. Otherwise coverage for individuals such as my husband would be impossible to obtain in the market place.
Fortunately, at the time my husband’s cancer was diagnosed, I was employed and had excellent health insurance coverage, which no doubt was a factor in his successful recovery. Since I have left that job and my COBRA benefits have expired, I have not had health insurance for almost two years. When ill health prevented me from returning to a full-time job that provided health benefits, my monthly prescription costs exceeded $400. We pawned jewelry and other possessions to cover this cost.
While I am not inclined to discuss my private troubles in a public forum, I mention this here because my situation and your father’s are far from unusual. There are many more people who are deferring or opting not to have key diagnostic tests performed, because they cannot afford the high retail cost of a mammogram or similar procedure. Therefore, conditions that would be easily treated in the early stages are not diagnosed until well-advanced, resulting in disability, unemployment, and financial bankruptcy. And the effect of this in the community is the loss of the volunteer services of adults who were skilled knowledge workers. All because health insurance is tied to employment and exorbitantly priced when marketed to individuals.
Yes, the personal is political, Amber.
I wish Rusty a complete recovery, good health to both of you, and health insurance coverage to keep you both in good health.
Kochanie
Thanks for adding your thoughts and a bit about your experience, Kochanie. I’m glad you liked the post. You are absolutely right about the preventative care issue.
I just wanted to drop in my $.02 as well.
I’m employed. But I’m a temp (for now). Without the benefits of medical coverage. While I do have short-term coverage (mainly to save my ass should something tragic happen), it is mostly worthless, andI have found myself putting off basic check-ups and concerns because I can’t afford them. I’m terrified of taking any chances (i.e., training for the half-marathon I’ve thought of doing in January), simply because I know, that should I develop another neck-problem, I won’t be able to afford it. (And without short-term-disability, I’m screwed if I miss work.) Hell, right now, even pole dancing is scaring me because OMFG, what if I fall?
Right now, my list of things to get checked out by a doctor is growing… I have reoccuring numbness in my right hand and what feels like could be a “notch” in a bone of my left forearm… I have a mole that I’m increasingly concerned about, as I’ve already had two pre-cancerous ones removed… my migraines have gotten worse… a filling that cracked and needs to be replaced… a tooth that needs a cap (and has been a “flat-top” for almost 2 years)… and then there’s the ever-present neck concerns that, if I have another episode, I get to look forward to a $1400 (at least) MRI.
But right now? I can’t afford it. Any of it. Even with the short-term coverage, just one trip to the doctor when I had strep cost me $200. So I just have to hope and pray that nothing severe will happen until I can get a “regular” job with “regular” benefits. Because [someone] knows, I can’t afford much else right now.
[...] actually registered at the VA at this point (unlike when he had a stroke in 2006, and was treated like a second-class citizen by the staff at Doctors Hospital [coincidentally, also the hospital where I was born], since he [...]
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