This past weekend my brother began building a privacy fence for me. My oldest daughter was helping by filling in the holes. They followed each other around all day; she was playing in the mud and he was handling the tools.
Toward evening, they hit a huge rock and were working together to get it out. No one knows why, but she put her hands in the hole as he was dropping the spud bar. To spare the gory details, I’ll just say that she’s missing a couple of fingernails and my brother’s heart broke.
The one thing I’ve never had to worry about when it came/comes to my kids is health insurance. They’ve been covered their whole lives by government assisted health insurance, volleying back and forth between Medicaid and CHIP depending on my job status. The peace of mind that comes from knowing my kids are covered is inexplicable, especially in emergencies. The privilege of health insurance definitely isn’t lost on me, and I don’t understand why our entire healthcare system can’t operate like CHIP, but I digress.
She started receiving health care on our porch from our neighbor and then we headed out to the local walk-in center. Sitting in the car, describing to the triage staff the nature of her injuries, I was really surprised when they asked if she wanted a physical while she was there. “I really don’t think she’s up to a physical right now,” I said, actually laughing. I still shake my head when I think about it.
We were allowed in and headed to the triage desk. My kid was in so much pain. They took her to x-ray and me to the exam room. The nurse was cleaning her wound when the P.A. entered and told us that they thought I should take her to the ER. She named a couple of services that they didn’t do as far as injections and prescriptions. I was dreading the trip to the ER. I’ve heard some pretty bad things about it in the last few months and there are sick people there, which didn’t help my foreboding.
When we arrived at the ER we were told that they were “super busy” and would get her into a room as soon as possible. “Great,” I thought, “there are sick people out there.” We sat in the waiting room for a while and were relieved when they called for her. At this point we had been seeking medical attention for about an hour. We were taken down the hall and placed in a room. After a while, the registrar came in and collected all her information. And then we waited. A nurse came in and examined her. At this point we were over two hours in. Three hours later, I’m heading out to the hallway to see who is around so my kid can have someone give her something for pain. She was in so much pain that she didn’t want to hold head up.
Now I get it; they were busy. I am not complaining about the health care workers, but the fact is that my daughter had a significant hand injury and wasn’t seen for hours. When I complained to someone in the hallway, a P.A. came in and examined her. She said they would get her cleaned up and refer to a plastic surgeon.
The nurse came in soon after, gave her an ibuprofen, cleaned her up, and left. The nurse, by the way, was fantastic. I watched her with an elderly patient across the hall and she genuinely loved her role.
Finally, I asked, almost begging, if we could just go home. My kiddo had been in a hospital room for 5 ½ hours and wanted to go home. We were starving. We were thirsty, and we wanted to leave. She said that probably wouldn’t happen, but it wasn’t much longer until she came in with the discharge papers.
I spent a lot of time thinking about our healthcare system while I stood guard over my daughter. For one, my daughter never saw a doctor, which makes me wonder what that profession is going to look like in another decade. Two, they were overworked.
The first place will bill for x-rays that they transferred onto a disc and sent with us. The ER told us they wouldn’t use x-rays from somewhere else, so the same x-ray billed twice. They charged for the supplies they used and gave to us, and something tells me they won’t charge the dollar store prices for even though they were the same item.
There has to be a better way.
Quality health care should be a right and shouldn’t cost an arm and a leg – or a fingernail.
Onward,
Amy Jo
