When you think of the “what
if’s” of being up here, it is easy to consider all of the obvious
possibilities. What if I were
eaten by a bear? A rather unlikely
prospect if one remains sensible in their daily endeavors. What if I were in a plane crash? Always a possibility, however as
frequently as it does happen; amazingly, rarely are there severe injuries or
death. What if I fell out in the
cold and couldn’t get help? Again,
a possibility, but if one is cautious in preparation, it isn’t likely to
happen. What if I got sick in
Bethel? Bingo!
Getting sick in Bethel is
nine kinds of hell. I started
feeling rough over the weekend but chose to ignore it. Heading out to a village on Monday was
par for the course and while there I deteriorated rapidly. The tickle in my throat transitioned to
a very wracking cough and a pounding in my face I couldn’t bear. Once leaving the village, getting into
one of the tiny planes and then proceeding to complete three landings and take
offs, my ears and neck had stabbing pains that brought tears to my eyes. Once finally in Bethel, I then made the
unheard of decision to go to the ER.
The hospital was small, the
ER tiny. I was triaged almost
immediately where the nurse said I might have a community spread type of
pneumonia. I’d heard about people
dying up here from pneumonia. That
wasn’t on my list of things to do.
I asked about how long the wait might be . . . a guess, just a
guess. She brightly said, it’s not
too bad out there today, it shouldn’t be long.
Feeling hopeful, I returned
to my seat. It was 7:30 pm. After about an hour, I was summoned for
a chest X-ray. I again asked,
about how long do you think it will be before I see the doctor? The X-ray technician said, oh, it’s not
too bad out there today, it shouldn’t be long.
I again, returned to my seat,
feeling hopeful. I watched not an
endless parade of people trailing beyond the golden doors, in fact, I don’t
think I really saw anyone heading towards treatment. I began coughing so violently I then experienced
uncontrollable urination. My jeans
were soaked through, and I wasn’t sure what to do at that point. I had been waiting for about two hours. Finally, a ward clerk came out with a
handful of plastic ID bracelets, calling off names. When she called mine, I gestured for her to come nearer to
me. I whispered to her that my
condition was worsening and that I had wet my jeans. She said ok.
It was at that time, the
nurse returned to inform me I was fifth on the list. Four people ahead of me. That wasn’t so bad.
Another patient who was also
waiting for medical attention, vomited on the floor. A nurse came out and unceremoniously placed an upside down
wastebasket over one of the larger puddles. About 30 minutes later, someone from custodial services made
a feeble attempt at cleaning the offending mess. Three children then proceeded to move the plastic barricades
that indicated caution due to a wet floor and use them as ramps for Match Box
cars.
I watched patients vomit,
spit on the floor, order food, accept food deliveries, eat, you name it. I watched children playing on the
filthy floor. I also watched the
clock. Fearing pneumonia, I
stayed, but as I remained, I kept thinking, I really am not well enough to
wait. I should get some rest, feel
better, then I would have the strength to wait.
Two hours became three. Then four. Then five. Then
six. I had been sitting in my
urine soaked jeans for about four hours.
I was feeling worse by the minute.
I was alone, frightened and sick.
I was having muscle spasms. I felt like I was in a tiled floor kind of
hell. I wondered how many other
patients had urinated on the seats.
The thought nauseated me even more.
Off and on, I silently wept. I coughed. I cried. I wasn’t sure what to do. Finally after about six and a half hours, I was beckoned to
the other side of the doors on my way to medical attention and hopefully
feeling much better.
On the other side of the doors, I was
asked questions I found confusing.
How often do I drink alcohol?
I couldn’t remember: I’m
not much of a drinker. Did I
smoke? No. Chew or dip? Nooooooo. What
about marijuana? No. Meth? Nooooooo. How
many children did I have? Four.
Their ages? 19-29. Was I married? No. Divorced? Yes,
but my husband was deceased. Why
was I in Alaska? I work here. Who was my doctor here? I’ve not seen anyone here yet.
I
was ill. Not substance
abusing. Sick. I needed help. Antibiotics. Something.
Finally, the doctor decided I was what I seemed, a very sick woman. He determined I was dehydrated
(probably from the six plus hours waiting), and that I had a sinus
infection. Thankfully, no
pneumonia. I was set up with an IV
that hammered a clear fluid into the veins in my hand and somewhere along
there, I drifted off to sleep.
While asleep, I had peculiar dreams, the
kind you have that you don’t want to remember because you know they are caused
by some outside force like being ill, their meanings have no meanings. The doctor returned with a bottle of
amoxicillin and instructions to buy a nasal spray and ibuprofen. No flying for a few days. I should stay home and rest. I explained I didn’t have sick
leave: no work, no pay. He shrugged nonchalantly indicating
it was up to me.
The folks on the other side of the golden
doors gave me some clean, although very worn blue pajamas to put on. I left the hospital looking like I’d
just been released from a refugee camp.
Asking security to please call a cab, I saw one pull up and I opened the
door asking if someone had just called.
Yah, yah, git in, git in!
Upon hearing that he had been summoned, I got in and gave him the address
to the hovel I had been staying in.
It was 2:30 in the morning.
Good grief! This is what the famous American health care is about? You've got to be joking? We get this for free!
ReplyDeleteWe go to A&E(if necessary) or see a consultant(in our own time). Afterwards, we get convenient attention and world class treatment and all still for free.
I'm so sorry you are poorly Chris - wishing you well and sending good things your way.
Thanks, Ruth! This actually happened a couple of years ago. But health care in American is outstanding, if you have the insurance or money to pay. I am currently paying a very scary amount per month for health care coverage that covers not much. I'm also having major surgery in 10 days. I have already paid my deductible ($2500) just in pre-op testing.
ReplyDeleteThere is such a huge controversy regarding mandatory insurance (Obamacare). Who knows how it will end up.
OK just to let you know.. I pay £115 per month for health/state pension/ unemployment contributions should I need them etc., after additional tax I keep the rest.
ReplyDeleteI know about the controversy in US health insurance, but I can't help thinking in USA it's about profit not patient - that's the difference from one side of the Atlantic to the other.
Hey, Ruth! I did a conversion. That works out to $176.65 in USD. What I pay is $720.88 per month, which works out to 469.31 GBP. That has a $2500 deductible which I have to pay before the insurance kicks in. Then it only pays 70% of COVERED costs. And no dental or vision coverage.
ReplyDeleteYou're right, health care in America is first and foremost for profit.