Tuesday, June 05, 2007

I rewarded myself today, after taking a nap when I got home from my temp job, by organizing a binder with all my medical records, articles, receipts, and correspondence. Something about creating order from chaos is oh so soothing to me.

I meet with a lawyer on the 12th. I am not sure how I feel about doing so or what might result, however I do want some kind of response to what happened while I was in the hospital, and there is no way I am paying a bill that was denied because the hospital did not follow protocol with the insurance company.

In the small hours of the night, in the quiet of the afternoon, in the silence of the morning...I remember the absolute fear I felt having the asthma attack and having hospital staff stand around debating whether or not I even had asthma while I begged them to help me. I remember when I stopped breathing. I remember how I felt when a nurse announced to the emergency response team that "she claimed she has cough variant asthma," in such a belittling, disbelieving voice. I remember getting weaker and weaker while the staff treated me like I was crazy.

Reading through the records, I discovered that I was right. Because I had trouble waking up from the anesthesia and shaking off the effects of two narcotics, I was diagnosed as mentally unstable with three different psychiatric conditions...this just hours after the surgery! Despite being drugged, despite having clear weakness and neurological symptoms, despite having two asthma attacks, everything was dismissed as being psychogenic. I was making it all up they thought!

The recordation is filled with words like patient "claims" and has snide comments from time to time. I am noted as being hysterical, agitated, and severely anxious. Like sheep, one person after another marked everything as being due to psychosis rather than even considering the organic. I mean, really, how can anyone decide someone is mentally unstable with three strong depressive drugs coursing through a person's system? Yes, tests were done, but not ones that make sense. For example, they checked for a pulmonary embolism, but did not check my blood gasses or do any spirometery following the asthma attacks.

I've lost over 20 pounds. I am so tired that I cannot make it through most days without a long nap. My limbs tremble. I have difficulty walking. I have fainted six times. And...I am still bleeding.

I stopped breathing. Something went horribly wrong, and I was treated so egregiously. I...stopped...breathing. Something went wrong.

When I first read through those records, I was so angry and hurt and confused that I could hardly stand it. Days passed, and each time I looked at them, those feelings washed over me anew. Tonight I took their power away.

They are mine now. They are organized, notated, and lined up for ammunition. So there!

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