Lessons learned from care providers (when I’m the patient…)

At 2:30 AM on Monday, April 11, 2005 my sleep was suddenly cut short when I awoke with the most intense pain I have ever experienced. After a few minutes, I concluded I had a kidney stone and, for an hour or so, experimented with every conceivable position for comfort, including crawling around on my hands and knees.

Around 4 AM, my writhing awakened my wife. When Susie asked me what was wrong, I tried to reassure her with, “It’s nothing serious: just a kidney stone.” Staying calm, she did everything she could to help me be comfortable. Eventually, I instructed her on how to give me some injectable pain medication from my medicine cart. When she informed me that the expiration date on the drug was eight years ago, I told her not to worry and stick me in my posterior any way. When two doses produced no noticeable benefit, I had to conclude that the drug had lost its potency. Next, I tried a prescription Vicodin® left over from a recent dental procedure. But that only seemed to nauseate me and I vomited it up soon after taking it.

By now it was approaching 7:00 AM and I finally consented to going to the emergency room. I crawled into the car and laid down in the back seat for the 10-minute drive to the hospital. Since no one was there to greet us, Susie selected a wheelchair from among several that lined the entrance to the ER. After putting a bucket between my knees, she wheeled me into the reception area. Except for the sign above the entrance and the characteristic waiting area with a few occupants, we weren’t sure if we were in an ER or a construction zone.

No one was at the reception desk, so we sat there and waited, with me vomiting every few minutes into my mobile bucket. I noticed that those in the waiting area donned respiratory masks, apparently fearing that I was contagious. Whatever it was that I had, they sure didn’t want it.

After what seemed like an eternity, my hopes climbed when a young lady in scrubs approached from behind the front desk. But she seemed to ignore me and to be cleaning, not nursing. When an elderly couple sought her out and received an answer to their question, my wife decided to give that a try as well. Asserting herself, she said, “Ma’am. Could we get some help? My husband is passing a kidney stone.” After giving us a blank stare, she pointed to a telephone on the counter and said, “Dial the number on the sign next to that phone and it will ring a triage nurse.” As my wife reached for the phone, she saw a 3×5 card with instructions to use the phone to call for help. How silly we were to think that we would expect a person to assist us! We should have known better and looked for the sign to call!

Just as I vomited again, a male nurse appeared with a wheelchair and requested that I transfer myself to his. He took me to the back, where he had me climb onto a gurney. He then began the routine of attempting an IV – but only added to my misery by failing twice.

Then came a curly-haired, thirty-something, clipboard-toting female nurse wearing bright turquoise scrubs and a not-so-bright countenance. As I glanced at her, I recalled the words of a military physician-colleague who used to say, “The greatest threat to Army medicine is a field-grade nurse with a clipboard.” In this case, his words seemed prophetic. This Florence Nightingale-NOT first began asking lots of questions about my health, then, despite my wife’s introduction of me as a physician, insisted on referring to me as “Mister Jacobson.” When my wife revealed that I had ordered her to give me injections of an outdated medication, I got an exceptionally stern look. “Mister Jacobson, you should never take medication that has expired,” she snorted. “I know,” I replied. “It’s amazing what you’ll do when you’re passing a kidney stone.” Then she also tried unsuccessfully to start an IV.

Finally, to my great joy, a cheerful young doctor came through the curtain and introduced himself. After I gave him a very brief and to-the-point case presentation of myself, he concurred with my assessment and assured me that he would get some pain medicine in me as soon as IV access could be established – a feat which he accomplished on his first try only moments later. True to his word, a syringe of pain medication was soon coming. And, as quick as you could say, “How do you spell relief? Dilaudid®.” I was out cold, and, according to my wife, snoring to prove it. A quick trip to the CAT scanner confirmed that I indeed had a stone, after which I was sent home packing with a urine strainer. Mercifully, my “stone” passed only hours later.

So what did I learn (don’t take me serious on some of these)?

  • Drink plenty of fluids and watch for other tips on preventing kidney stones: they’re painful!
  • If you go to the hospital and can’t get any help, look for a sign to read!
  • If you’re wretching in the waiting room, just post a sign on yourself saying, “Relax – I’m not infectious!”
  • If you work as a health care professional, try a little compassion. The irony of this experience is that my “care” was rendered at a hospital run by the Sisters of Mercy.

Matthew 14:14 And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick.

Posted on 9/02/2006 under Christian Health & Medicine. Comments RSS feed.
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  1. Dr. Jacobson, I’m sorry you had such a bad experience at a Mercy Hospital with the nursing staff.

    My experience at a Mercy Hospital was quite different from yours…even though the Mercy’s and Fort Hamilton where I am employed are very competitive with each other. It wouldn’t be unusual to get a side glance and rolled eyes when they find out where one works…bad attitude but there you are.

    This time, however, there was a receptionist and everyone with the exception of one transient caregiver tried their best to cheer me up and make me more comfortable. The nurse who started my IV got it on the first stick. The Dr. was kind and gentle with my broken wrist. The xray techs were merciful and quick.

    I had a few things working to my advantage in dealing with the pain. 1. I couldn’t let my nieces know how bad it hurt, though I think they knew anyways. 2. My neices who were with me are comedians. 3. and most importantly, I think, God brought to my mind a verse I had just recently memorized, “It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord and to sing praises unto thy name o Most High.” and I said it to myself and to God over and over again. God had a sense of humor too.

    Anyways. That was the beginning of the my current journey in trusting God and learning obedience to him. I just wish I were a faster learner!

    PS. I am very glad your stone passed quickly and without complications.smile.

    9/04/06 by Paula Fields

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