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One After 909's avatar

Every time I read something Dr. Prasad writes I wish he were in there working on policy.

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Linda's avatar

You are on fire and spot on! All of us need to participate in this broken thing called "healthcare."

Imagine this: 10 days in a hospital, feeling like you're the star of a medical sitcom where the humor is lost on everyone but you.

From the get-go, I was bombarded with phone calls from health insurers. I swear, the moment they got wind of my hospital stay, my phone turned into a hotline for mental health checks. They were so concerned about my mental state, I was tempted to say, "I'm ready to kill myself now, please get off the phone," just to get some peace. But, I figured, that's not the kind of peace I was looking for.

The nurses were like wind-up toys, never stopping, moving from one task to another with no rest. They'd administer drugs, then it was a mad dash to the scan, back to typing in the computer, then to the patient again, all in a loop that seemed designed to maximize steps. I started to wonder if anyone was tracking their daily mileage—and funnily enough, most of them were.

In the midst of this managed chaos, I had a moment of "WTF?" when I saw tests that clearly showed no disease being "re-accessioned" from my medical record. I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure that had more to do with insurance than with my health. And speaking of insurance, let's talk about the medications. I ended up with a small fortune in drugs at home that I now need to recycle. I mean, I like lorazepam as much as the next person, but I didn't need to be relieved of my "anxiety" with a supply for an army.

Then there were the machines, particularly the ones delivering sodium bicarbonate. They went off every three minutes like clockwork, demanding attention to be shut down. After the 100th time, I was ready to talk to the insurance company about my fragile mental health.

And medication management? A classic case of "we know better." When I expressed concerns about a drug, I was told it was "required." Eight days later, my previously perfectly functioning kidneys were on the brink of failure. Doctors lose a bit of credibility when that happens.

The billing is/was the cherry on top. Huge sums billed, doctors getting a pittance, and a payment system so convoluted it could be its own episode of a dystopian drama. For my stay, the hospital has only received payment for bills that came after I turned 65 in April this year. The rest? Pending in insurance limbo, to be paid with interest in the next two years, if at all.

This experience was an eye-opener. It taught me the importance of being my own advocate, questioning everything, and understanding that in this system, patience isn't just a virtue; it's a necessity. As a patient, what can I do to help fix this system?

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