dilloduck
Diamond Member
Merlin1047 said:Had to go back into the hospital between scheduled chemo treatments due to a fever I had developed. What followed had to be the most blatant piece of medical blundering that I've ever experienced.
I came in with a temp of 102 which promptly climbed to 104. The folks on the oncology floor managed to get it down to 103, but decided that I needed to be in ICU. That's where the nightmare started. The ICU was a classic example of how bureacracy can kill you. They have a patient treatment protocol and they are apparently unable to alter that to meet the needs of a specific patient. Everyone who rolls through the door gets the same cookbook approach. First they gave me platelets - even though my temp was still 103 and there was no pressing reason for platelets. They neglected to check my chart so they did not preceede the platelets with steroids. As a result, I had a reaction and turned into one giant welt.
Next they wanted to infuse two units of blood. Now I had been told by numerous medical folks at two different hospitals that you don't do red blood with a temperature in excess of 101. I pointed this out to these two boneheads who were treating me, but they insisted. Finally I flatly told them that they WOULD NOT give me blood until they had my temp under control. They still insisted, claiming that I was risking my life by refusing. I said "Look at me. Do you see me bleeding anywhere? So what's the rush?" I had my way.
Next they stuck me on a cooling blanket. This is a plastic device which has a grid through which a refrigerant is pumped by a machine which looks suspiciously like a small central air conditioner. They left me on this thing for three hours, freezing my ass off. They finally pulled it out from under me. Apparently what they failed to consider was that the mattress was a gel-filled variety. It absorbed the cold same as me. So even though the cooling blanket was gone, I was now lying on a cooling mattress. The stupid bastards got my temperature down to something in the mid 95 range. Somehow I managed to get the hell out of their clutches alive.
Docs were unable to determine the source of the fever. They did FIVE blood cultures, TWO stool samples, and two urine samples. If I had it, it was sampled. Everything came up negative. My regular doc was on vacation and the on-call guy wasn't too up on my type of leukemia. He called in a communicable disease specialist. The CDS looked at my chart, scratched his head, and prescribed an IV anti-biotic. Nothing happened. So he prescribed another anti-biotic in addition to the first. So now I'm on two anti-biotics, but we still don't know if that is the appropriate approach. Even on two, nothing happens. Undeterred, doctor CDS adds a THIRD anti-biotic in addition to the two I'm on. Now things start happening. I start getting a fever blister, they have to put me on meds to avoid yeast infections and my fever gets WORSE. By not it's Saturday and the CDS doesn't work weekends and cannot be reached. I feel crappier with every administration of anti-biotics. The nurses can't discontinue them and no one can get in touch with the CDS. I've already had the nurses run the anti-biotic drip at half speed to minimize the adverse effects, but it's still downhill. Finally I figured "To hell with this. I know how to solve the problem." Next time the nurse came at me with another bag of anti-biotics, I simply refused to take them and I refused all other IV anti-biotics. That caused a little bit of a stir, but there's nothing they could do about that.
Next my heart decided to do about 150 beats per minute, so they transferred me to the cardiac floor. Nothing horrendous to report there except by now I'm wondering just exactly how many hours I have remaining on this earth. It was one scare after another.
Finally by Wednesday everything settled down that the three docs who were treating me all signed off on my release. Then here comes a woman from respiratory therapy and decides that my blood oxygen level is too low. She calls my regular doc and he pulls the release authorization. Now I'm so pissed that I can't see straight. They screw around with me until nine PM the following day and I'm finally home now.
Moral of the story? You have to take charge of your own care. Hospitals, left to their own devices, are death traps.
Amen--so sorry you had to experience this personally. Everytime my sister goes in it's the same thing. Utter imcompetence mixed in with no communication and some apathy mixed in for good measure. Now she always makes sure she has someone to go in with her to straighten out the nonsense.