Our Journey Through the U.S. Health Care System
the daunting and absurd undertaking to obtain health care for an artist
I have decided to share the diary entries I wrote during my husband’s illness. I started keeping a diary because the doctors would ask me a lot of detailed questions when we went in for appointments and I would not have remembered it all without these notes. Even though some of what happened could arguably be considered malpractice, I have changed the names of all doctors, hospital, and hospital personnel because I do not want retribution, only effective change to our healthcare system.
The story will unfold in multiple posts.
This is the first entry.
9-1-1 call:
“February 24, 2014, 4:58am – 9-1-1, what is your emergency? – It’s my husband, he is breathing really heavily, and his eyes are rolled back in his head…oh, my, oh…oh. – Is that his breathing I am hearing? – Yes. Can he respond to you? – No, he is not responding, he’s hyperventilating! Craig, can you hear me? Craig, sweetheart, can you hear me? Oh, my, oh my…I love you, honey. Oh, my…This has been going on for almost ten minutes. – Alright listen to me carefully, lay him down flat and raise his chin. If he vomits, turn him on his side. The paramedics should be there very soon. – Ok. Oh, my God. Oh, oh, my God. (crying).”
On Monday, February 24, 2014 at 4:58am, the love of my life, my soulmate woke me. “Craig, you’re hitting me, stop!” I said. He didn’t respond so I called his name several more times. I could tell he was not breathing normally; he was hyperventilating. I turned on the light and he was lying on his back, his eyes wide open, but he was not conscious and not responding. His body was rigid. I immediately called 9-1-1 and the operator stayed on the phone with me until the paramedics arrived. It was surreal. I was shaking, my teeth were chattering, but I wasn’t cold. I was terrified, but you do what you have to do. I didn’t know what was happening. I thought maybe he was having a heart attack or a stroke, but he had never been sick in his life.
Just as the medics were walking into our bedroom, he came back to consciousness, looked at me and asked,
“What happened?”
He seemed very disoriented and weak. Then, the four large men moved in on him. At that point, he was trying to sit up in bed, so I told them that he probably wanted to go to the bathroom, and they moved away. I helped him sit up on the side of the bed but once he was in a seated position, he collapsed back down on the bed with a big sigh like it was too much effort. At that point, they moved in again and started their procedures. Craig started fighting back which seemed understandable in the situation. He felt threatened. He wasn’t completely back to normal and he suddenly had four large men touching him. I felt that their behavior was not nice. They were rough, not gentle with him. They did not address him by his first name. Instead, they addressed him as ‘sir’ and they started forcefully holding him down. I was asked to get his identification and left to go do that. Then one of the medics asked me to stay outside and answer his questions. He told me that they were taking him to the nearest hospital and that I could come over in my car.
I thought what would I find when I get to the hospital? Would he still be alive? As I walked down the hallway in the ER, my body was still shaking from the shock. Suddenly with great relief, I heard Craig joking with the nurses and everyone was laughing. He was back at it, charming everyone, but every time he tried to move, he would cry out in pain. His only complaint was back pain at that point and he had never had back pain before. The results of the complete blood analysis, CT scan, and chest X-ray all came back normal. The doctor explained he had had a seizure but said he wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly why.
To be continued…