Every hospital stay comes with a story, and this one is a doozie. The events of the last 36 hours are, in my opinion, appalling. Rarely have I ever been this mad at a doctor. The last time was at OHSU, and the perma-cath incident. In fact the two of them have some things in common, in that I was subjected to an unnecessary surgery that did me no good at all. The difference was that this time I was told it had to be done, and that I was risking my life if I didn't do it. Spoiler alert: That turned out not to be the case.
Technically it started Wednesday night when I was cleaning my arm. My left arm, the one where the dialysis access used to be and the one that has gone through so many surgeries over the last couple of months, looked bad. It's not healing right. There is still, 3 weeks after leaving the hospital, significant discolored discharge. It's also still very swollen and sensitive to touch. I was worried. What I've been doing is what I was told to do - change the gauze every night, and keep the area clean. I use the anti-bacterial soap the hospital gave me when I was on peritoneal dialysis. It's very strong stuff.
While I was soaping up my arm Wednesday night my arm started bleeding. A section of arm where are the incision scars up near my elbow had opened up, and some blood had started running out. It wasn't a big deal. It was a small bleed. Big enough to freak out Raseny, but not big enough for the ER. See I'm a pro; I know these things. I slapped a piece of gauze on it, applied some pressure, and it was fine. It did demonstrate to me, though, that my arm just isn't healing right.
The next day, Thursday, I went into dialysis, and asked that my Nephrologist (Dr. Hawkey) be contacted about putting me on some antibiotics. It was clear to me that although Dr. Alexander was happy to ignore the problem (he had told me twice in one visit and one phone call that I would be fine), things were not getting better. Indeed, if sores were opening up at points where stitiches were, something was wrong. So I asked the dialysis nurse to hit up Dr. Hawkey who has proven to be much more responsive to emergencies.
Well they didn't. They called Dr. Alexander's office, and here's where things get aweseome.
Dr. Alexander was away, but Dr. Geary was still around. Now I've dealt with Dr. Geary in the past, and he has proved, repeatedly, to have no idea what's going on. He told the dialysis nurse that I should go to his office ASAP after dialysis. When I arrived at his office I was told he was already waiting for me at the Operating Room over at the hospital...
Yeah, read that again. He fucking scheduled me for surgery when all I asked for was antibiotics. So I refused. I explained the situation to the nurses, and what did they do? Tell me that I needed this surgery. That Dr. Geary had said I was going to bleed out if I didn't do what he wanted. Read that again as well. I was told I was going to die unless I had this surgery. Now.
I'm going to skip what happened next as it's fairly embarrassing. The short version - I had a nervous breakdown. I knew what I was being told was false, and that all I needed was some antibiotics to take care of the localized infection on my arm that was interfering with my bodies ability to heal. What Dr. Geary wanted to was go in and try to make improvements to Dr. Alexander's work without a) reading the case file, or b) consulting with Dr. Alexander. I knew this. I said as much, but the nurses wouldn't listen. They had a job to do, and that was get me over to the operating room. They appealed to my mom. They told her that I was risking death by not having this surgery. She, of course, jumped in to get me over to the operating room. I tried to explain to her what was going on, but the mess that is the veins and vascular pathways of my left arm is difficult for me to understand, let alone explain.
While the nurse is telling me I don't want to bleed out, I remembered what happened when I was the hospital three weeks ago. One of the nephrologists and I had a fight over whether or not I was going to be released that day. He wanted to keep me, and I said they couldn't do that. I was going to put on my clothes and march out that door. Here's what he said to me:
"Well you have that right. You could do that. But here's what's going to happen if you do. I'm going to make a note in your file that you refused to follow the advice of your physician, and you are not going to be eligible for a transplant. They do not give transplants to people who disagree with their doctors."
And as I'm sitting there preparing to tell the nurse to fuck off and go home, that exhange plays through my mind. Does Dr. Geary have the same authority? Do I want to take the chance? I'm still a wreak from the last round of surgeries. I don't have my strength back. My arm is still sore, swollen and painful, and they want to go and add another incision to the pile of wounds that have to heal. "How?" I keep wondering, "How is that supposed to make things better?"
But eventually I gave up. The sorrow and worry in my mom's voice, and the constant barrage of "You need to do this," from the nurse eventually wore me down. Along with the idea that if I say no I would be blacklisted from approval for a transplant proved too much. I gave up, and I started the march over the operating room.
The surgery itself was no big deal, but you know why it was no big deal? Because he didn't do anything. Once he had cut me open he saw why Dr. Alexander had left my arm in the shape that it's in - it's a fucking mess. The better surgeon had already done all he could, but this asshole thought he could do better. He ended up doing nothing. Oh wait, no that's wrong. He couldn't close down the vein he wanted to because he couldn't reach it, so he sealed another vein further up. Brilliant right? Because I haven't had grafts and other operations in that area to try and releive the pressure on my arm by routing other veins to other arteries. Well he decided one of them should be closed.
Tonight my arm hurts like hell. It's more swollen then it was on Wednesday, and 20x more painful. The left arm is in constant pain, and his only solution was to up my oxycodone prescription to 15mg every 3 hours. I haven't taken any yet. I know, when you're in pain, take the pain killers, but upping the dose of oxycodone is not a solution. I will grit my teeth and bear this as long as I can.
Tomorrow I will go to dialysis, and I will tell the dialysis nurse that when I say I want her to contact Dr. Hawkey, I want her to contact Dr. Hawkey. Tha Dr. Alexander is no longer my vascular surgeon, and I will no longer be consulting him on any condition with my arm or any other matter. On Monday I'm going to call one of the nephrologists who I've seen over the last few months who aggressively hinted that she knows there are better vascular surgeons out there. I'm going to take her advice.
And I don't know how, and I don't know if it's possible, but I want to pursue a lawsuit against Dr. Geary. Lies and deception were used in order to get me into an unnecessary surgery that may have made my situation worse. I don't really know what constitutes malpractice, but that sure sounds wrong to me.
Oh, and I still don't have any antibiotics.
Technically it started Wednesday night when I was cleaning my arm. My left arm, the one where the dialysis access used to be and the one that has gone through so many surgeries over the last couple of months, looked bad. It's not healing right. There is still, 3 weeks after leaving the hospital, significant discolored discharge. It's also still very swollen and sensitive to touch. I was worried. What I've been doing is what I was told to do - change the gauze every night, and keep the area clean. I use the anti-bacterial soap the hospital gave me when I was on peritoneal dialysis. It's very strong stuff.
While I was soaping up my arm Wednesday night my arm started bleeding. A section of arm where are the incision scars up near my elbow had opened up, and some blood had started running out. It wasn't a big deal. It was a small bleed. Big enough to freak out Raseny, but not big enough for the ER. See I'm a pro; I know these things. I slapped a piece of gauze on it, applied some pressure, and it was fine. It did demonstrate to me, though, that my arm just isn't healing right.
The next day, Thursday, I went into dialysis, and asked that my Nephrologist (Dr. Hawkey) be contacted about putting me on some antibiotics. It was clear to me that although Dr. Alexander was happy to ignore the problem (he had told me twice in one visit and one phone call that I would be fine), things were not getting better. Indeed, if sores were opening up at points where stitiches were, something was wrong. So I asked the dialysis nurse to hit up Dr. Hawkey who has proven to be much more responsive to emergencies.
Well they didn't. They called Dr. Alexander's office, and here's where things get aweseome.
Dr. Alexander was away, but Dr. Geary was still around. Now I've dealt with Dr. Geary in the past, and he has proved, repeatedly, to have no idea what's going on. He told the dialysis nurse that I should go to his office ASAP after dialysis. When I arrived at his office I was told he was already waiting for me at the Operating Room over at the hospital...
Yeah, read that again. He fucking scheduled me for surgery when all I asked for was antibiotics. So I refused. I explained the situation to the nurses, and what did they do? Tell me that I needed this surgery. That Dr. Geary had said I was going to bleed out if I didn't do what he wanted. Read that again as well. I was told I was going to die unless I had this surgery. Now.
I'm going to skip what happened next as it's fairly embarrassing. The short version - I had a nervous breakdown. I knew what I was being told was false, and that all I needed was some antibiotics to take care of the localized infection on my arm that was interfering with my bodies ability to heal. What Dr. Geary wanted to was go in and try to make improvements to Dr. Alexander's work without a) reading the case file, or b) consulting with Dr. Alexander. I knew this. I said as much, but the nurses wouldn't listen. They had a job to do, and that was get me over to the operating room. They appealed to my mom. They told her that I was risking death by not having this surgery. She, of course, jumped in to get me over to the operating room. I tried to explain to her what was going on, but the mess that is the veins and vascular pathways of my left arm is difficult for me to understand, let alone explain.
While the nurse is telling me I don't want to bleed out, I remembered what happened when I was the hospital three weeks ago. One of the nephrologists and I had a fight over whether or not I was going to be released that day. He wanted to keep me, and I said they couldn't do that. I was going to put on my clothes and march out that door. Here's what he said to me:
"Well you have that right. You could do that. But here's what's going to happen if you do. I'm going to make a note in your file that you refused to follow the advice of your physician, and you are not going to be eligible for a transplant. They do not give transplants to people who disagree with their doctors."
And as I'm sitting there preparing to tell the nurse to fuck off and go home, that exhange plays through my mind. Does Dr. Geary have the same authority? Do I want to take the chance? I'm still a wreak from the last round of surgeries. I don't have my strength back. My arm is still sore, swollen and painful, and they want to go and add another incision to the pile of wounds that have to heal. "How?" I keep wondering, "How is that supposed to make things better?"
But eventually I gave up. The sorrow and worry in my mom's voice, and the constant barrage of "You need to do this," from the nurse eventually wore me down. Along with the idea that if I say no I would be blacklisted from approval for a transplant proved too much. I gave up, and I started the march over the operating room.
The surgery itself was no big deal, but you know why it was no big deal? Because he didn't do anything. Once he had cut me open he saw why Dr. Alexander had left my arm in the shape that it's in - it's a fucking mess. The better surgeon had already done all he could, but this asshole thought he could do better. He ended up doing nothing. Oh wait, no that's wrong. He couldn't close down the vein he wanted to because he couldn't reach it, so he sealed another vein further up. Brilliant right? Because I haven't had grafts and other operations in that area to try and releive the pressure on my arm by routing other veins to other arteries. Well he decided one of them should be closed.
Tonight my arm hurts like hell. It's more swollen then it was on Wednesday, and 20x more painful. The left arm is in constant pain, and his only solution was to up my oxycodone prescription to 15mg every 3 hours. I haven't taken any yet. I know, when you're in pain, take the pain killers, but upping the dose of oxycodone is not a solution. I will grit my teeth and bear this as long as I can.
Tomorrow I will go to dialysis, and I will tell the dialysis nurse that when I say I want her to contact Dr. Hawkey, I want her to contact Dr. Hawkey. Tha Dr. Alexander is no longer my vascular surgeon, and I will no longer be consulting him on any condition with my arm or any other matter. On Monday I'm going to call one of the nephrologists who I've seen over the last few months who aggressively hinted that she knows there are better vascular surgeons out there. I'm going to take her advice.
And I don't know how, and I don't know if it's possible, but I want to pursue a lawsuit against Dr. Geary. Lies and deception were used in order to get me into an unnecessary surgery that may have made my situation worse. I don't really know what constitutes malpractice, but that sure sounds wrong to me.
Oh, and I still don't have any antibiotics.
P.S. If I ever knowingly meet that Dr. Geary, I'm going to kick him in the junk.