A tale of two hospitals

A little over three weeks ago, I started out the door to take the three kids skating as I had a couple of weeks earlier, when my mom asked if she could come along. Her coming along was a last minute fluke that turned out to be a life saver! I can’t even imagine how much more horrible this would have been if I had been alone with the three kids, an hour away from home!

We were having lots of fun and Luciana was MUCH more confident on skates than she had been before. There was a church youth group there that had been driving everyone crazy the whole night. They had never been skating (or it appeared that way) and were constantly falling, causing others to either have to avoid them quickly or fall themselves. They were easy to spot because they were all wearing red t-shirts with big crosses saying, “We stand for life”. Too bad they couldn’t stand for skating! We managed to successfully avoid them most of the night, until a little girl fell in front of us, knocking Luciana down. I was holding Luce’s hand and almost made it upright, but the little girl’s wheel caught my wheel, and I went down, tried to catch myself out of instinct and shattered my right wrist. The little girl felt very bad about tripping us up and was very apologetic.

It was my first broken bone (other than a finger), and I did it well. It shattered the end of my radial bone. I had to have surgery to repair it and now my arm is full of hardware (plates, screws, and pins). It looks absolutely disgusting. It’s been three and a half weeks since it happened and it’s slowly improving. I’m still in a lot of pain and very limited with what I can do. My ability to clean and care for all the animals is extremely limited which leaves extra work for Mark and Luce. It’s been a huge pain in the ass and has left me feeling really vulnerable and ‘breakable’. I don’t like being dependent or feeling weak, so I’ve been extra crabby lately.

In May, we gave my M’s motorcycle to my dad, as Mark just didn’t use it. He had big ideas years ago when he got it, but it’s just sat in the garage since then. My dad passed his written test and started riding all over town right away—he was so happy on the bike, and I was happy to see it finally getting some use! This past Sunday was the final class for him to get his permanent license, and about midway through that I got a phone call from him (my mom was out of state with her sisters). I could tell by his shaky voice that something was wrong. He still doesn’t know what happened to cause it but the bike ended up tipping on him and he landed on his right side. His right leg was badly broken, with the ligaments badly crushed. He also has lots of nasty road rash and bruises. He also had emergency surgery and is now in the painful recovery stage. He said he will never ride a motorcycle again.

What’s interesting, besides the fact that we each had a ridiculous bone-breaking accident within a month of one another is that we had a similar experience but in very different hospitals. I ended up in Watertown hospital, which is part of the UW system. I wasn’t quite nervous about having surgery in a small-town hospital, but quickly realized it was a beautiful, well-run hospital.

From the time I arrived in the ER and was put in a bed, I stayed on the same bed until I went home. No painful transfers. They put me on ice and gave me pain meds immediately. The brought the xray machine into the room to take xrays. I never had to move, and if you’ve ever broken a bone, you know that moving it around while broken is excruciatingly awful! He was moved SEVERAL times, each time was incredibly painful for him. One time they used a board to facilitate moving him, which was much better than the other times where they had him scoot very painfully to a new bed while supporting his own unset, painful leg

My dad called from the parking lot where the accident happened and was waiting for the ambulance to arrive (while sitting out on blacktop on a 95+ degree day). The toes on his right leg were pointing backward instead of forward, so there was significant pain involved. We beat the ambulance to the hospital by about 45 minutes--not sure what they were doing, but he was NOT given any pain meds, nor did they put ice on him. I was put on ice immediately and given fresh ice throughout my stay.

My hospital room was very nice--clean, attractive, and most importantly PRIVATE. I didn't eat much there, but what they brought me was very good. I have stayed at Mercy for other surgeries, and even the fresh fruit was completely inedible, with the other options being even worse. My dad's room was crowded cluttered and shared with another person. There wasn't even adequate space for visitors. It is beyond disgusting that with what the hospitals charge per night, they force you into such cramped quarters and unsanitary conditions. Sharing a bathroom with a complete stranger, with unknown bodily fluids and blood in the mix is just repulsive. Given the per night rate of Mercy, I calculated that for the same amount, you could stay in a five-star hotel, live on room service, and pay a private nurse to adminster round-the-clock care.

As always, Mercy was understaffed, and the care he received was woefully inadequate. I would like to send them a bill for the nurse/CNA duties that we had to perform while he was there, because nobody could be found. The care and attention I received was wonderfully. I rarely even had to call for a nurse, and if I did there was an immediate response. They kept my pain meds coming (though I didn't partake in much), kept my fluids/IV bags changed as needed, and made it as pleasant as such a stay can be. Conversely, Mercy was a comedy of errors--forgotten, long-empty IV bags, they forgot to put any ice on for swelling, didn't bring a vomit receptacle until I tracked someone down for one (which barely made it in time), never checked on the rapidly swelling leg which was getting squeezed painfully and dangerously in the splint that we had to loosen (again...staff?), forgot to put the compression cuffs on his legs... I could go on and on as there where several other instances of poor care. Like every other experience I've had at Mercy it was just disgusting, unprofessional, and NOTHING they should be able to collect money for. I wonder if anyone has ever disputed the charges based on lack of quality care, sanitation, and overall subpar experience.

I find it quite hard to stomach the Mercy joke of a hospital, knowing that they are literally rolling in profits. Because they are a "non-profit" hospital, their number one concern is trying to spend the massive quantities of money that they made in profit, so they can retain their status. I really hesitate using the term non-profit on an organization whose CEO makes as much money as he does. It's appalling the money that they are pissing away on damn near anything, yet somehow it never crossed their mind to improve the quality of care, get adequate staffing, or consider the patients' comfort.

With as much time as I've spent in the hospital over the last few years, I feel like a connoisseur of medical facilities. I will be thrilled when the Dean hospital is opened up! In the meantime, I would travel to Watertown or Madison before I would spend a dime at the shit hole called Mercy!

I'm just now able to take pictures again for the first time. It's still a little awkward, so I'm not getting great shots. I was so bummed during my recovery that I didn't get any shots of the hundreds of asiatic lilies that were in bloom. It was stunning, and they were gorgeous. They are at the tail end now, with most of the asiatics being done. I took a few shots tonight of the garden, but it was definitely at its best about two weeks ago. I'm hoping M got some shots of it at that time.

I took this photo during dinner tonight. Charlie always hangs off things in the strangest ways. He seems to always have at least one set of legs hanging off the surface and sticking straight out.