I’m beginning to think that people in the medical field are there because they are entertainers, not necessarily because they care about the well being of others. Yep, I’ve got another story just full of brilliant people.
So let’s start at the beginning.
Monday I had my 28-week checkup. My appointment was late in the day so naturally, there was a bit of a wait. No big d. The nurse/receptionist had me pee in a cup, took my weight and my blood pressure. Being 28 weeks I knew that something needed to be done about the fact that I am Rh-. As far as my few minutes of research, I was
prepared aware that a shot was in my future. The doctor came in and the first thing she said was, “I have to apologize. I had forgotten that you are Rh-. I could have had that blood work done with your other tests a few weeks ago.” Not really understanding what she was apologizing for I said, “oh that’s fine. I was going to ask you about that anyway.” She proceeded with the checkup and here is the report:
- baby is growing perfectly–“not too big, not too small”
- my butt, on the other hand, is growing “a little fast”–ok so she was actually referring to my weight gain but I’m pretty sure she meant my butt
- baby’s heart rate is in the right range (140’s-150’s)
- doctor isn’t sure what position the baby is in (a little early to tell)
- blood pressure is fine
- glucose test came back fine (114 milla-whatever)
- negative for cystic fibrosis
- blood count is “great”
Then we went back to the Rh- thing. I thought I just got a shot at 28 weeks and again after delivery but then she started talking about an antibody screening that needed to be done. So she fills out the blood work order and tells me it is probably best to go have the blood drawn at the hospital which is just next door. I had time to burn before picking up Devin so I went straight to the hospital where I realized why medical care is so expensive. And here is why:
I go to the main entrance and ask where to go to have blood work done. The nice young lady directs me to “patient registration” who will help me. Patient registration consist of 5 cubical type booths but of course only 2 are occupied with workers who are helping people. Across the way there is a line of chairs for people to wait. However, there is absolutely NO SYSTEM in place as to who is next to get help. So, as a worker, who you cannot see due to the cubical, calls out “next”, whoever jumps up first and gets there first is next, (ie, not me because the cute little Indian couple who came after me decided to ignore me walking over to the booth as I was left there standing confused and irritated.) Finally, I get my turn. To have a tube of blood drawn you have to answer all these silly questions like, “do you have a living will?” and “who is your emergency contact?” WHAT? Why do you need that info I’m getting my blood drawn you crazy lady! Oh, and my favorite, “and what are your symptoms?” Hello?! Don’t you think you should know something about medical stuff to work at a hospital? My response was of course, “uh, I’m pregnant….?”
After 20 minutes of this nonsense, I made it to the lab. My first clue that things weren’t going to go well with them either was the hand written sign saying something like, “have a seat. someone will help you soon.” Uh, ok. Total chaos. No sign-in. No “take a number.” So again I just sit down and hope that someone notices me. Which they did.
“And what about this lady? What’s going on with her?” I just looked at her wide-eyed and confused. She asked me if I registered. (think…think…is that was I just did for 20 minutes with Miss What Are Your Symptoms?….) She didn’t wait for my answer but saw my paperwork and said, “ok–come on in here.”
So I followed her to the blood sucking station where she proceeded to rubber band my arm and prep my skin. Then the other lady (sitting at a computer a few feet away) said, “what are we doing? What does this mean? How do I order this? What is the code? Brittany, do you know what you are having this done for?” (my oh my.) I said, “pregnancy? I’m Rh-….something? I have this prescription also…?” The other lady came back and while taking off the rubber band thingy said, “we better figure out what we are doing before we start poking you.” Ah, brilliant idea!
Anyway, after some discussion with several other workers, the only man in the office came over and set everyone straight. How is it that a man knows everything about Rh- testing and pregnancy and none of the women do? The lady who drew my blood kept reassuring me that they do know what they are doing. Then the best part. She turned to me and said, “see the thing is it’s a little hectic around here. We are remodeling. We are actually operating out of a trailer out back.”