denniscomments

political and social commentary about the flat earthers and other ridiculous subjects

ARE WE PERSONS, COMMODITIES, OR JUST PLAIN PREY? D. L. BLEWiTT, Jan, 2018

After relaxing after my eviction from the hospital, I still am still frustrated by the stupidity of the actors after I left.  For those of you who haven’t read previous posts, I was ill with flu and exacerbated COPD, for which I was given a steroid called prednisone.  I was admitted to the hospital.  The next day, after little sleep, blood sugar levels all over the place, massive IV dosages of steroids, a physician visited me and said I might be released in 2 more days.  She was off then and told me I would be seen by another doctor.  That was the last time I saw a doctor. 

An alarm kept going off when I moved in the bed and, when I inquired about it, I was told that a physical therapist ordered the alarm.  I explained that I saw no physical therapist and was then told that I had refused one, which was a total fabrication.  In frustration and because I believed that the nurse couldn’t or wouldn’t understand me, I used a court technique that I had been taught.  I raised my voice.  The nurse, (later claiming to be in fear for her safety, like police who murder citizens claim) told me that if I didn’t shut up, she would call security.  I said that if she did so, I would leave.  She called security and I got dressed to leave.  The nurse came back with some documents to sign, which I signed, and I left.  I saw no Physician or hospital official and did not leave against medical advice because none was given.  Downstairs, a security guard asked if I was the patient from room XXX.  I said I was, and he told me to leave because I was trespassing.  I went to the cafeteria and vented on Facebook.  Since I dictate everything, and was hyper, I babbled some nonsense of my experience.  People responded with concern, but missed the point I was trying to make, is that no patient should be threatened with eviction by a nurse, especially one in my condition.  I was outraged.

                So, here I was, taken off high dosage IV prednisone, threatened with arrest, oxygen level at 71, no orders or instructions from physician or hospital and  traumatized by threats of incarceration.  Angry. Frustrated.  Extremely congested lungs.  Oxygen at 71% at a hospital more concerned about rules and showing respect to incompetence and arrogance than for patient survival, sick, tired, frustrated, angry and short of breath. 

                I attempted to contact my healthcare provider upon returning home.  It was Saturday afternoon.  After listening to various frustrating announcements, I was asked a series of questions by a machine.  Finally, I was connected to a real person (I assume) who asked the same questions that I had just answer.  I sarcastically said that the answers hadn’t changed from a minute ago and was informed that he had no way of knowing what the answers provided were.  I asked why they were asked then if no one could use them and he chose to make excuses.  I said a naughty word that I learned on a public-school playground in the third grade and was threatened with being cut off.  I said, “you got to be fucking kidding!”  Click.  Well, back to the phone tree. 

                Now, I confess that at my age, I can become crotchety. I have been told that sometimes I am intimidating. I struggle every day over, my background, and often in very unsuccessful. However, I do not believe that any sick person should have to endure what I just went through.

                I started delivering papers. I then worked for Safeway, carrying groceries and stocking shelves. I spent 7 years behind a Barber chair, listing the people, patiently empathizing with them and, waiting on them. I have run to several degrees and have at least 30 hours of postdoctoral study in sociology and conflict resolution. I have been a lawyer for 50 years. I have been a judge. As a defense attorney, I have had experience with people.   I have represented many different types of people from campus radicals, unions, organized crime figures, CIA figures drug dealers and government assassins. Even while being held for an hour with a knife at my ceratoid artery wielded by the leader of the San Quentin area nation, whom I was representing, I never faltered, feared or let anything interfere with my duty to my client or my oath as an attorney. 

                When I worked for my parents and grandparents I was taught that the customer was always right. If a person did not want to cater to customers, and your occupation was chosen.  The only thing for which I was punished was being a bully either mentally or physically. My family, through many generations until my father, and all been Masters of ships since Vice-admiral Blewitt of the British navy sailed the Indian ocean, 5 centuries ago. Salty language is not a new to either myself or my Family. Nor is tolerance and understanding.

                The question that I wish to ask you, dear readers, is a matter of perspective and training. When I studied criminology, one theory of treatment was that offenders had to be taught that there is a difference in degree between running a stop sign and murder. The lack of ability to do so was one sign or criminality.  When I studied judging, I was taught that my main job was one of public relations and listening to people. When I taught students, I was taught patience and the humility, which, for me, is a hard for the period.

                What kind of training are people getting that teaches them that it is permissible for them to hang up on any person seeking medical assistance? Since when is it the privilege of a gatekeeper or anyone engaged in health care to arrogantly punish a person for the use of crude or coarse language?  What kind of training allows a nurse to evict the patient because he became loud? What kind of system allows a policeman to shoot as is the spherical or his safety? How did we become such a society, and what we do next?

                I was wrong. I should have capitulated. I shouldn’t have shown frustration. I shouldn’t have let 2 weeks of intervener’s prednisone agitate me to such an extent. I have been trained differently, and I realize this. But, it has been 3 days since the incident, and I still not been contacted by the hospital. For all they know, I could be dead.

                I know I’m one person and this is probably making a mountain out of a molehill, but I think it is time we demand that we be treated as people and not as a commodity. I would hope that some of you would contact the people that train others in this area and expressed concern.

1 Comment

  1. In spite of all this, I still had a wonderful birthday. Thanks for all the kind thoughts.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: