10 pm and Steven has a bedsore. His mother just called crying.
No one came to his room for more than 4 hours in a row today. In order to avoid bedsores it's procedure to move each patient every two hours.
I'll cry later, no time right now. I'm having his four physicians paged out of their cozy beds or their hot dates.
No one will sleep tonight. I'm stuck in front of the computer accessing files and waiting on hold because, "no I would not like a call back, I'll wait right here for Doctor GetYourFuckingAssInGear to pick up the phone."
Bedsores are from neglect.
This is unacceptable, back to the pissed off housewife... no more finding my center.
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4 comments:
You're right. Bedsores are abso-fucking-lutely unacceptable.
Surely the very least Dean could ask for is to be kept comfortable. That occasionally means moving him...no fun to listen to, because it is painful for him, but it's got to be done and this pain beats lying on pain.
Keep at them. Your no bullshit attitude will serve you well for the next while.
Hugs,
Kenn
Unacceptable!!
I completely respect and admire your strength!
Did the hospital or doctors get back to you yet?
I finally got to bed sometime after midnight.
3 of the doctors were on the phone with me and they were unhappy to be paged out of their sleep with what they thought was "not an emergency".
I was able to convey to each of them that it was, in fact, an emergency and that it's urgent that they care for the patients in their charge.
If they ever find out that Dean is not my brother we're all fucked.
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