We settled

Today is the 4th anniversary of Paul's death. Here is what I can report: We have settled with Northside Hospital for an undisclosed amount of money.

Photo

In case anyone wanted to see who died at the hospital...This is who we're fighting for, as well as everyone still alive.

Trial Date changed

This past week, I learned that the trial date has changed: Rather than over the summer, the trial is now slated for the fall of 2010.

Yes, this means that it will be that much longer that my life is on hold. But I have no intention of leaving before this is over. I have every intention of seeing this through.

Will it make me stinking rich? I doubt it. Will the hospital admit guilt? I doubt that, too. Will the truth come out? You'd better believe it.

Ya can't go around treating people like garbage and think that it's okay.

Slowly moving along

For those who have wondered about what is up with this blog, this punchline is this: the lawsuit against N.side is slowly moving forward.

The weird thing is that since P__ died--in fact, since before his death--I've run into numberous people with their own horror stories. (Note: This month, will be the third anniversary of his death.) Between those who have posted here on the blog, those who have contacted me through channels and those I've spoken to in person, we're talking anywhere between 50-100 people, easily. One person said that she had nothing bad to say about the place, that she'd go there again. The rest have had mostly horror stories, frequently ending with, "Is it any wonder they're so close to that cemetary?"

I realize that hospitals, like most businesses and people, have detractors, as well as those who speak in glowing terms of the place. But even if it were a mere 50 I had had contact with, one person who says that the hospital is good to go with 49 detractors is still only a 2% approval rate. Not good.

Contrast

Talk about a difference in care. I spent the weekend at Bayfront Medical Center (1/11-14), then for a "pit-stop" in their ER this past Friday. I figured I had the option of going early enough to have a friend drive me there or wait until later, call 911, and end up at N.side.

Okay, here's the deal. First off, Bayfront's ER seems to have a grasp on what triage means. Yes, people are seen on a first-come,-first-serve basis, with a definite change: If someone has been sitting in the ER with, say, a probable sprain, broken toe, etc., and someone comes in with chest pain, altered neuros, etc. before the sprain is seen, the chest pain is seen first. This is how is should be.

While spending the weekend there, from what I observed, whenever a call light is pulled, if a nurse or Patient Care Tech is nearby, they'll pop in and ask what is needed. Otherwise, within a matter of seconds, the room's intercom will come on and whoever is manning the nursing station full-time will ask what's needed. If no response, or if a response that is urgent, someone is in the room STAT. Flip side is that if it's not an immediate emergency, it may take a minute or two, especially if there is an emergency elsewhere on the floor. However, I never saw anyone, even in a non-emergency, have to wait long. Certainly not ten minutes, and definitely not ten minutes without checking on the patient, which is one of the complaints I had with P__'s stay at N.side.

Another issue at Bayfront: Everyone seemed to know what he or she was doing. The only time it looked like someone might have a problem was when my IV had to be changed. I've got veins that like to roll, move, and otherwise do "the funky chicken" when they see a needle. This is on good days. After several days of being stuck, they were even funkier. The nurse assigned to my room told me that she'd get the charge nurse, who was a pro at hitting hard-to-get veins. When in deep, call for help. This is different from the nurse at N.side who told P__ and me, "I'll figure it out," when she had to use an inhaler she was unfamiliar with. I have more respect for someone who knows they have a problem and asks for help, especially on something as important as someone's health.

Finally, when I was discharged, I had K__ (my cab driving friend who was going to help pick P__ up) waiting downstairs for me. The nurse had a wheelchair waiting and said that, no matter what, they always insist on having someone discharged from the hospital in a wheelchair with a nurse wheeling them down. This, of course, is another difference with N.side's treatment of P__.

Which begs the question: Why can't N.side take a few lessons from a hospital? They sure need it!

Repost for newbies...

This will be a repost for anyone new to the blog. It is basically a repost of April 9's post:

For anyone new here who doesn't want to go looking for what happened to my husband at Northside, I'm going to repost what happened here:

Wedneday, Oct. 18, 2006

P__ requested that I call 911, as he was having trouble breathing. We wanted him to go to Bayfront Medical Center as P__ had received good care there in the past, as well as the fact that Bayfront has the only Trauma Center in Pinellas County. Instead, P__ was taken by ambulance to Northside Hospital, an HCA hospital.

Once at Northside’s Emergency Room, the staff responded quickly, within minutes. Dr. T___ was on-call at the time. (I’m not sure if he is a resident, intern, or if he has completed residency.) Dr. T___ attempted to use a facemask to assist P__ with his breathing, but when it became apparent that this was not helping, P__ was intubated. P__ was placed on Diprivan to keep him sedated. The RN assigned to P__ (A.) mentioned that, since many people are sensitive to Diprivan, he would keep a close watch on how it affected P__, which he did. As soon as P__’s blood pressure started to bottom out (at one point, down to 52/35), A. backed off the Diprivan to bring P__’s B.P. back, saying that once the BP came up, he’d try to find a happy medium.

Meanwhile, P__ started to regain consciousness, becoming combative. Dr. T___ came in and, with his face literally inches from P__’s, started screaming at P__ to calm down. At that point, A. came in and physically had to move Dr. T___ out of the way to administer medication. Later, when I asked, Dr. T___ said that he yelled at P__ because “P__ is deaf.” When I asked how he figured that, he stated that he “knew” this because “he has white hair and he’s 71, therefore, he’s deaf.” He never bothered to ask if P__ was deaf (he wasn’t), just assumed. This assumption was not a big deal, but it begs the questions: What else does he assume about his patients? How does this affect their treatment?

P__ was brought up to the CCU later the same day.

I requested both in the Emergency Room and the CCU that P__ be transferred to Bayfront Medical as soon as possible for two reasons: (1) it was our preference (due to better care), and (2) our insurance, United Health Care (Medicare Complete) didn’t have a contract with HCA hospitals at that time.

Thursday, Friday October 19, 20

Both days are unremarkable. P__ slowly got better, to the point where he was allowed to regain consciousness by Friday morning; the tube was removed several hours later. Nursing care in the CCY was as good as it should be: caring, competent, good nurse-to-patient ratio.

Saturday October 21

I visited for 1 ½ - 2 hours in the early afternoon, then went home for 1 ½- 2 hours. During this time, the hospital called and said that P__ had been transferred—NOT to Bayfront Medical, but to room 243, bed 2 (B?).

When I came back to visit him, the nurse assigned to P__ seemed very unsure of herself about giving him some medication by inhaler. It was a type of inhaler that we were unfamiliar with. P__ has used what is referred to as “rescue inhalers”, as well as a nebulizer in the past, and had received breathing treatments in the CCU as well as when he’d been in Bayfront. We were not familiar with the kind that the nurse was getting ready to use. According to the nurse, it was supposed to crush a pill so that P__ could inhale it. The nurse kept asking me, “Do you know how to use this?” When I told her I didn’t, she said that she would figure it out. I suggested she find someone on the floor who knew how to use the inhaler; she stated that she didn’t think anyone on the floor knew how to use it. I then mentioned that maybe she should contact Respiratory Therapy and get a Respiratory Technician up to the room either to administer the medication or to show her how to do it. At that point, the nurse stated, “No, that’s alright. I’ll figure this out." After having P__ breath twice into the inhaler, the nurse opened the inhaler, looked inside, and stated, “The pill is gone. I guess it worked."

While this nurse was in the room, I discovered through small talk that (1) she’d been an RN for 20 years, and that (2) she was nearing the end of a 12-hour shift.

My point is that if she was unsure of how to use this inhaler—or how to do any procedure—she should have asked for help. The pill in the inhaler may have been inhaled properly—or it could have lodged in any part of P__’s air passages.

Sunday October 22

Before I left home to visit, P__ called and asked if I would call the nurses’ station. When I asked why, he stated that he had gotten up to use the portable commode and that when he got up, his nasal canula had become disconnected from the oxygen supply. He stated that he had pulled the cord for the call-light and waited for 10 minutes for a nurse to arrive while trying to reconnect the tube.

I immediately called the nurses’ station and told the person who answered that someone needed to check P__ and why. That person told P__’s nurse, “You need to check room 243. He needs help reconnecting to his oxygen,” to which I heard the male nurse reply, “I was wondering why the light was on for the past ten minutes!” Ten minutes—and the nurse hadn’t checked? P__ could have been having chest pains, a possible heart attack, stroke—any number of problems.

Thing is, P__ was always fairly accurate about time; I kidded him about this over the years. I had watched him keep an eye on the clock on numerous occasions, to the point that if he told me he had waited 10 minutes, it was (fairly reliably) somewhere between 9 1/2 and 10 1/2 minutes. Also, I had overheard the nurse reply about the light being on "...for the past ten minutes."

Monday October 23

I received a call in the morning from P__ that he was to be discharged that day. He also mentioned that his hip was hurting. When I inquired if he had fallen, he denied falling. (He had broken his shoulder after a fall in May, so I was concerned about possible osteoporosis.)

I arrived around noon and was informed (by P__) that he had had nothing to eat that day. There was a food cart in the hallway, and other patients were observed to have lunch trays. I asked P__’s nurse why he had not received any meals that day, as he was diabetic and required both food and medication to keep his blood sugar levels in check. The nurse told me that since he was scheduled to be released, no meals had been ordered. I had to ask several times to have a meal brought up before one was finally ordered.

During this time, P__ continued to complain that his hip was bothering him. When I inquired about the possibility of having an X-Ray done, I was informed that one wasn’t necessary. “After all,” I was told, “we can’t X-Ray everyone for every little ache and pain.” This was said after I mentioned my concern over possible osteoporosis, both because of his age and the broken shoulder several months before.Between 2:45 and 3:00 p.m., P__ said he needed to use the bathroom. He stated that he had used the bathroom earlier (with the help of a walker), that his hip had hurt when he had walked to the bathroom, so I asked his nurse if it was okay for him to attempt to get up and go to the bathroom and was told it was okay.

However, when P__ attempted to get out of bed, he fell. I pulled the cord for the call-light. When no one came, the family of another patient in the room ran out and got the nurse. She came in and stated, “Somebody put the bed too high. That’s why he fell.” After helping me get P__ back into bed, she took his blood pressure, which was elevated. She then reiterated that there had been several tests run on P__ that day and that “one of the technicians must have raised the bed and forgot to lower it.”

Note: The other patient in the room was only there for part of one day and signed himself out of the hospital AMA after P__’s fall. I overheard him tell his family that he didn’t trust Northside.

Around 3:30, the nurse came back into the room with a syringe. When I asked her what it was and what it was for, she told me that it was for the high blood pressure and that I didn’t need to worry about what it was. I told her that she really needed to take another blood pressure, as it had been 30-45 minutes since the one elevated one, and that that one had been taken immediately after a fall, that there was a good probability that the BP had come down enough to either not need the medication at all or, at the very least, a lesser dose of the medication. However, she informed me, “I don’t have time to take another blood pressure right now” as she injected the medication into P__'s arm.At 4:30, the nurse stated she was almost done writing the incident report on the fall and that as soon as she was done, she’d give us the discharge papers. She also told me, "His doctor is on the floor. Please don’t tell him about the fall, as then he might want to keep P__ in the hospital longer.” At that point, I simply wanted to get P__ out of Northside so that I could bring him to Bayfront Medical.

Around 5:00, the nurse brought me the discharge papers and a wheelchair. She asked that, since they were extremely understaffed, would it be possible for me to please bring P__ down to the main entrance and help him leave? Again, I simply wanted him out of there. (At this point, she still had not taken another blood pressure--or any other vitals--even after giving the still unknown blood pressure medication!)

I got in touch with a friend of ours who drives for cab. K. arrived at approximately 5:30. I wheeled P__ out to the cab. K. stated, "I thought the hospital was supposed to have someone here to help him out!"

At this point, P__ stood up and immediately collapsed onto the ground. K. came around to help me pick P__ up but we were unable to do so. I ran inside and told the girl who was working the front desk what had happened and asked that she call for help, STAT. She assured me she’d get help right away. Five minutes later, when no help had arrived, I went back inside and asked where our help was.“I’ll call Security back and see what’s taking them so long,” she informed me. Security. For a medical problem. Of course.

I then ran around to the Emergency Room and told the Triage Nurse what had happened and that we needed help. She informed me that if I would simply put P__ back into the cab and drive around to the Emergency Room door, they’d help us. At that point, I picked up the nearest phone and dialed 911 to get help. After being assured that help was on the way, I hung up. The Triage Nurse asked who I’d called; when I told her, she asked me if I didn’t think that was “overkill” (her words).

By the time I got back to the front of the hospital, where K. was still trying to keep P__ as comfortable as possible, a nurse and a woman from Security were out front. The nurse never once made an effort to help, but kept asking why we had P__ on the ground. She then heard the sirens in the distance and said something about someone coming to the ER. I told the nurse I’d called 911. Her response was to ask if I could call them off; the woman Security Officer told the nurse that once 911 is activated, they couldn’t be called off, to which the nurse made a comment about my calling 911 “ridiculous”.

When the paramedics arrived, they were able to bring P__ around to the ER, where he was readmitted. It wasn’t until after the paramedics arrived that the nurse who had come out made a show of helping; before then, she wouldn’t call for help or make any attempt at helping.

After P__ was readmitted to the ER, one nurse worked on him for several hours. Periodically, the nurse mentioned P__’s blood pressure being very erratic.

Tuesday October 24

Shortly after 2 a.m., while still in the ER, P__ suffered a heart attack...After being moved to the CCU, P__ was hooked up to seven or eight bags of medicine. I was told that four of the bags were for medication to bring P__’s blood pressure back up, and that the medications were being pushed to the limit. He was also in the Trendelenburg position to help bring the blood flow to his brain and heart.

That same afternoon, his primary care physician came in to check on him and to talk with me about P__'s prognosis. The last time I talked with Dr. ___ face-to-face was shortly before 6:00 p.m. on the 24th. I was getting ready to head home. The visiting hours in the CCU ran until 6:00 p.m., then resumed from 8:00-10:00. This way, the staff could finish charts, do end-of-shift care while the new shift came on and everyone could get a complete run-down on the patients. Very necessary, somewhat time-consuming (I imagine), very hectic. Also, I had only gotten an hour's worth of sleep the night before, so I figured I'd forgo coming back in that evening, opting for seeing P__ the next morning.

Dr. ___ arrived shortly before visiting hours were over. Around this time, a technician came in to run an EEG on P__ which a neurologist had ordered. The technician told me that he would run the EEG after I left, then immediately get the results to the neurologist. The tech was kind, asking me if I had any questions, giving me a brief run-down on the procedure. Meanwhile, Dr. ___ proceeded to tell me, "We need to pull the plug on your husband."

"Why?" I wanted to know.

"He has no chance at all of any kind of recovery or meaningful life. He is brain-dead. We need to pull the plug now."

Hey, wait a minute. Who let him into this nightmare?

"Excuse me," I told him. "You're expecting what from me?"

"We can't pull the plug without your permission. And we need to pull the plug on him now. Tonight."

I informed him that, first off, I wanted to see what the EEG showed.

"That won't change anything. He's brain-dead."

"I want to check with the neurologist."

"That won't change anything. We need to pull the plug. You need to give me permission to pull the plug." Meanwhile the two or three others (I really don't know who they were) pulled closer around him. There's strength in numbers, they seemed to be stating.

I pointed out that I needed to sleep on this and to talk with P__'s sister. Also, I was going to talk with the neurologist first. Also, if Dr. ___ couldn't pull the plug without my permission, he was not going to get it that night. End of discussion.

Sometime between 7:30 and 8:00, I called the CCU and talked with P__'s night nurse, C__. C__ mentioned that Dr. ___ had made more noise about pulling the plug. "However, the neurologist did look at your husband's EEG. If you'd like, I can page her for you so you can talk with her." I thanked C__ and told her that I wanted to talk with the neurologist.

"Good," she told me. "I promise, we won't do anything except to continue our care for P__ until after you talk with Dr. (neurologist)."

I only had to wait a few minutes for the neurologist to call back. While she said that the EEG showed little, if any, activity, she did offer me this much hope: four (4) days. As she relayed to me, "After an incident like your husband experienced, it's not uncommon to see very little brain activity." However, in her experience, the first four days after such an incident held the key: either the patient would expire on his or her own (frequently within the first 24 hours), or they would stabilize, after which it would become clear that the patient was being kept alive by machines (in which case, letting the patient go was probably the kindest thing to do), or there would be some sign of improvement. She likened it to stories most of us hear on the news during the winter months: a person will fall through the ice, remain submerged for half an hour before being pulled out, and walk out of the hospital a week later, missing only the memory of that week. "Personally, if it were my loved one," she stated, "I'd give him the four days."

After being assured that she would call the CCU immediately, I thanked her. Five minutes later, I talked to C__ in the CCU; she had just hung up with Dr. (neurologist) and agreed that I had done what she felt was best for P__: given him a chance.

When P__ finally died at 10:44 p.m., the nurse working on him said that when he died, his blood pressure suddenly went haywire.My problem with Northside Hospital is that: 1) P__ wasn’t transferred to Bayfront Medical once he was stabilized, 2) the care (or lack thereof) contributed to P__’s death. Yes, he was in his early 70s and had had two previous heart attacks... However, while P__ was in N.side, several doctors wrote that his heart sounds were good. The heart attack that figured into the death happened after the administration of the medication to drastically bring his blood pressure down—and this was for a one-time BP reading taken immediately after a fall and not monitored thereafter.

Lawyer has signed on...

As of Tuesday afternoon, I have an attorney who has signed on. I'm not naming names at this point. I figure that if anyone from Northside is reading this, I don't need them contacting the attorney just yet. After gathering more information and deciding how best to proceed, I know s/he'll contact Northside. I will say this, though: The Jacksonville lawyer is still on the case, but at this time, he is taking a backseat and letting the Tampa lawyer run with the case.

At one point, after I had signed papers so that the Jacksonville lawyer could get P__'s complete medical records, Northside refused to send the records, stating that Jax was the lawyer for P__'s estate. Apparently, this is highly unusual; the usual scenario is that the patient (or next of kin--me--if the patient is deceased) signs a release form (actually several), sends them to the lawyer, who then requests the records, which are then collected and sent. That is the way it is supposed to be done. Except, of course, Northside didn't want to turn loose of the records. (What were they trying to hide?)

Well, the records finally arrived. Jax also contacted me to let me know that the Tampa attorney wanted to sign on; did I find this acceptable? In many ways, it would be advantageous to the case: when things start picking up steam (if N.side not won't turn loose of any more records; depositions being made; etc), it would be much easier to commute from Tampa than Jacksonville. Add to the fact that the Tampa lawyer is a medical malpractice attorney, highly recommended, etc., I told Jax that I accepted. Jax assured me that he's still in the picture, so that made me feel more comfortable.

During the meeting with the Tampa attorney, I signed the paperwork to get the whole ball rolling. S/he was impressed with the letter that the Agency for Health Care Administration (AHCA) sent. It stated that it was able to confirm most of my accusations. The two accusations that it could not confirm (or deny) were the two most inconsequential ones, at least to this particular case. However, I do have several witnesses who can back up my claim on one of those claims, bringing us down to one unconfirmed accusation.

I feel very good about the direction this has taken. I had hoped for an attorney who was totally excited about taking the case; to have two (one doing the steering, the other as back-up) is indeed wonderful.

One more thing: anyone who missed the article in the St. Petersburg (FL) Times last month, here's a link to it: http://www.sptimes.com/2007/03/18/Neighborhoodtimes/Widow_warns_others_in.shtmlhttp://www.sptimes.com/2007/03/18/Neighborhoodtimes/Widow_warns_others_in.shtml"> . Feel free to read.

One last thing for this evening: If you have a loved one going into the hospital, keep watch. Ask questions. Expect answers. (However, use common sense. If your loved one is in the ER and 10 people are frantically working on your loved one, it might be difficult for someone to break away and give you a play-by-play report. But someone from the hospital should be able to talk with you and let you know what's what.) Be vigilant. Write things down, even if it seems insignificant. Keep in mind that most medical personnel are decent, caring people who will try to help you and/or your loved one. As with many professions, it is the bad ones who give the good/great majority a bad name.

I hope this helps someone out there...

Bills...

Unbelievable.

I received a notice from Northside Hospital for P__'s stay from October 18-23. I had already received a bill for the 23-24 ($250 for our part of the bill), but no bill for the 18th through the 23rd. The notice stated that "since your insurance hasn't paid this bill, would you please contact them and request payment? If not, you'll be responsible for the full bill," after which, they listed an exhorbinant amount.

So I call the insurance company and ask what the problem is. Turns out, they not only have sent a check out to Northside, but the check has been cashed.

This same insurance company did not have a contract with Northside for the better part of a month. I remember mentioning an article that was in the St. Petersburg (FL) Times about the lack of a contract between our insurance companies and the HCA chain to P__ before his/her hospital stay; a contract wasn't reached until after P__'s death. While I had the insurance company on the phone, I mentioned that I really felt that they should not have renewed the contract. The gentleman on the line asked why, and I gave him a brief rundown.

"Oh, really," he said. "Let me bring up another screen on my computer. Do you mind if I write up a report on this and give it to my supervisor?"

"Give the report to the CEO of your company, too, if you want. I think that would be great."

I gave him the info he needed (as well as the address for this blog), after which he said that he would be passing on the information. (Thank you, sir, if you're reading this.)

I then called Northside, informed them I had just gotten off the phone with the insurance company and was told, "Oops. Our mistake. Sorry."

Yeah, right.

This past week, I received a bill from Northside. They wanted $1,250.

So, I called the number on the bill and was told by a woman that she couldn't talk to me without P__'s permission. "S/he died. You'll have to talk to me."

"Okay." No "I'm so sorry for your loss" or any of the other canned phrases used for times like this. Just "Okay."

I offered to pay $10 a month, but was informed that I had two choices: 1) I could pay the entire amount in one lump sum or 2) they could graciously break the bill down into four easy payments. Those were my options.

Excuse me. The hospital staff (at least the ones on the floor) kill my spouse, my monthly income is lowered by the amount of P__'s monthly checks, and I'm suddenly offered the chance of paying off a $1,250 in four easy payments.

Again, I offer to send in monthly payments of $10, but am informed that "that is totally unacceptable", at which point, I inform the woman on the phone that I'd be sending the bill to my attorney for him to handle.

Dead silence, then, "Your attorney? Why do you have an attorney?"

"I'm sorry, but that's all I'm able to say at this time."

"Are you planning to file suit against Northside?"

Again, I responded that I was not at liberty to say. "However," I did inform her, "considering that, while P__ did get good care in the CCU, the fact that s/he was transferred to the floor rather than Bayfront after being stablized, and s/he subsequently died in part because of incompetent care disturbs me."

That got her attention. "P__'s dead? As in...Dead?" Well, last time I checked, dead was usually dead. And very pissed off is, well, not a happy camper.

"Yes, P__ died in Northside."

"And you have an attorney."

"Yes."

If backtracking were an Olympic sport, I'd be willing to bet that I heard someone in contention for a Gold Medal. "You know, I think we can forget about this bill. I feel that that is the least we can do."

After ascertaining that yes, indeed, the bill no longer needed to be paid, I asked her what her name was. I figured that, should the bill show up again, a name would be nice.

"I don't think that my name is needed," was the last thing I heard before the line went dead.

And, yes, dead is usually dead.

And the bill is on its way to the attorney's office. The same attorney's office I informed about the bill.

Another dissatisfied patient

If you've read through this blog thus far, you may have noticed the list of patients who've mentioned problems with Northside Hospital thus far. (Note December 19, 2007's posting.) This, along with the mention by one of the comments (listed under the first posting) by an RN who brought her ex-husband home rather than subject him to one of the "non-critical" (ie, ICU, CCU, et al) floors, is just a small fraction of Northside's former patients who are unhappy with their care (or lack thereof) recieved at Northside, I'm sure.

One of the patients mentioned in December 19's post now has my attorney's name, phone number, and email address, as well as the phone number for the Agency for Healthcare Administration. He is planning on filing suit, also.

I'm sure that if enough people complain and/or raise a stink over the treatment of this hospital, someone has got to listen.

P__'s death

It has been almost 2 months since P__ died at Northside Hospital (Tampa Bay, FL). Here are the facts:

1. After being transported to Northside, P__ spent several hours in the ER before being shuffled off to the CCU. I was assured that s/he would be transported to another hospital after being stabilized; however, instead, s/he was sent to another ward.

2. The first day in the new ward, the assigned nurse kept asking me, "How do you work this inhaler?" She literally had no clue, yet, rather than call in another nurse ("No one else on the floor knows how to use this one, either") or calling Respiratory Therapy to send up a Respiratory Tech, the nurse insisted, "I'm sure I can figure this out myself." This, from a nurse who stated that she'd worked as an RN for 20 years. First thing she should've known was that if she wasn't sure how to use a piece of equipment, CALL FOR HELP!!!

3. Another incident: P__ came unhooked from his/her oxygen and pulled the call light. After 10 minutes, I recieved a call from P__, asking me to call the nurse's station. When I did, explaining what the problem was, the nurse stated, "I was WONDERING why the light was on for the past 10 minutes!"

4. After P__ fell, the nurse on duty took one blood pressure reading and found his/her BP to be elevated. Half an hour - 45 minutes later, the nurse came back to give an injection. When I asked what it was for, the nurse stated it was for P__'s elevated BP. I asked what the medication was and told, "It doesn't matter; you don't need to know, except that it's for his BP." When I said that she needed to take P__'s BP again before giving the injection (figuring the BP had probably come done), the nurse stated (as she gave the injection), "I don't have time to take a blood pressure on him/her." I was then asked, "Please don't tell P__'s docter, as he'll want to keep P__ in here longer."

5. An hour and a half later, the same nurse handed me P__'s discharge papers and a wheelchair before asking, "Can you please bring him/her out? We don't have enough staff to help with the discharge."

6. P__ then collapsed outside. When I could get no help from anyone in the hospital (security was called!), I had to call 911 and have a local Fire Department and ambulance come to help pick P__ up.

Obviously, I'm leaving out quite a few details, while giving you, the reader, enough to realize how bad this hospital is.

My next post will discuss several other people who have told me their horror stories about this hospital.