My name is not Darling

 

While waiting in a small cubical in a huge Atlanta hospital last week a young man prepped me for a test that would take images of my entire upper body, I could not understand why he didn't call me by name. He had my medical records at his fingertips. No, he did not say Glenda, nor Mrs. Beall. He repeatedly referred to me as darling. 

I asked him what his name was and he sloughed me off, but I insisted. When he told me Joe, I said, "Joe, my name is Glenda." 

He laughed. 

He never called me by name as he took blood pressure and inserted an IV in my right arm. He never called me by name after the test was done and he wheeled me out to the waiting room. He only called me darling.

I have written about this before, the way young people often talk down to their elders and speak as if they are talking to a five-year-old.

Because I have a really bad knee that will have to be replaced before too long, I have to use a wheelchair when I go to the huge hospital because it is miles from the entrance to the waiting room to the testing area. Now they see me not only as old, but disabled, too. Anyone who uses a wheelchair knows what I mean. The young tech or nurse doesn't look down to meet my eyes when they speak. They talk to whoever is pushing the wheelchair. 

The latest episode with Piedmont Hospital in Atlanta left me furious!

I called the doctor's office the day before my appointment and asked them if both my niece and my sister could come to the hospital with me. The woman who answered said there would be no problem. I asked because the first time I went there, my brother-in-law, who drove us down there was not allowed inside the hospital. Only my sister could come in with me. He had to go and find a place to wait for the two hours I was there.

I had a good reason for wanting my niece and my sister with me. I was very nervous because these tests are being taken to see if I will need to have surgery. My emotions were right on the edge. My sister is my advocate and my emotional support. My niece drove us down through Atlanta traffic. I needed her to help with the wheelchair and to manage the maze of hallways and lack of signage as we had to find another area, in another connecting building, for a second test after I finished with the first one. 

But the woman at the front desk said NO. Only one person could come into the building with me. No matter what I said, she said no. I told her my doctor's office said it was fine for both my family members to come in with me. She said they would have to send someone from their office on the fifth floor down to her desk to sign something before she could let two people come in with me.

"What if we just went in anyway?" I asked.

"I'll call security and they will take you out."

My niece, Lee, called my doctor's office but had to leave a message. No one from that office ever responded. 

None of us like to deal with the medical system in this country. I have had my share of trying to work with doctors, nurses, technicians and now hospital workers. I hate to go to a hospital for any reason. 

More than one of my family members died because of a medical mistake.

I was sorry when I depended on nurses to look after my mother one night in a hospital in Albany Georgia because I had been there night after night and my family insisted I take a night off and sleep in my own bed.

I hired a nurse to stay with her to be sure she had good care. But in the middle of the night, the hired nurse was down at the nurses station laughing and talking when my elderly and ill mother fell out of the bed. I was incensed and felt terrible that I had left her to strangers. She could have died due to that woman's negligence.

My mother was a victim of elder abuse from a man who was a hospital employee who took her down to have a chest exray. He said I did not need to go. "I will take care of her," he said. I guess he was an orderly.

I waited in the room until he finally brought her back. After he left she told me what happened. "He made me take of my gown and stand against a wall," she said. 

"You mean he had you stand there naked?"

"Yes," she said. I could tell she was mortified.

I confronted a nurse. Was there any reason my mother had to be undressed completely for a chest exray? 

"No," she said.

That evil man just wanted to use his power to humiliate my sweet mother who was helpless in his hands.

I never left my mother alone in the hospital again. 

Now I am the elder and will likely find myself in a huge hospital with no family members with me. Just as when the pandemic was raging and so many older people died alone, the rules continue against family members being present with a patient after visiting hours. 

Maybe I won't have the surgery if it is recommended. I can't bear the thought of being helpless with strangers and with no one there who knows and cares for me.

I left a review on the Piedmont website which tells them why I am upset with them. We will see if it gets any notice. 

Have you ever felt helpless in a medical situation? How do you feel about health care in the United States? 

Pat Reviere Seel wrote a great post about aging women.

https://patriviereseel.com/vanishing-act/