Saturday, October 17, 2009

Patients Bill Of Anesthesia Rights


The Patient has the Right to:

Have their anesthetic performed anywhere in the hospital (including the loading dock).
*No matter how overweight, have General Anesthesia in any position without a breathing tube.
*Be free of all anxiety, pain, hunger, nausea and stress (even if they are "ALLERGIC" to all sedatives, narcotics, anti emetics, gas, anti inflammatory drugs, oxygen, hypnosis and acupuncture).
*Be alert and able to quote Shakespeare within five minutes after surgery.
*Have any procedure including open heart surgery and liver transplant without an IV.
*Physically and verbally abuse the staff (including spitting, biting, scratching and punching).
*Have at least ten family members and friends present at all times.
*Quote at least a dozen articles they read online and in the tabloids concerning how to do anesthesia.
*List at least five family members who have been paralyzed by a spinal anesthetic.
*Eat,drink and smoke right up to the start of surgery.
*Wear all their clothes, jewelry, make up, acrylic nails, body hardware, dentures, hearing aids, wigs, glasses, hats, raincoats and glitter to surgery.
*Show up a day late at admitting and still get their operation.
*Refuse any preoperative test you ordered.
*Ignore any preoperative instructions.
*Drive themselves home.

Ah, Patients! The beloved enemy.

Sunday, October 04, 2009

A HIPAA Free Zone


If you put four Southerners in a small room within twenty minutes you will have a an ice cream social without the fat. I'm sitting in my Doctor's waiting room with four other strangers reading the book I brought and waiting "for the call". I'm looking at the heavy older gentleman sitting across from me and giving him my ten second medical assessment. I notice the thin skin, the spidery veins on his cheeks and his overall "Mr. Clean" appearance. I automatically put him in the "sick" category and suspect he's taking steroids for something. Across from me there is a young lady about thirty five with that Northern N.J. transplant look. Next to me is a slender, no-nonsense looking thirty year old "power-chick".

I'm sitting there about two minutes and I can feel it coming. My guess is the old guy is going to kick it off, and he does. He is suffering from prostate cancer that has spread to his bones. The Jersey girl had lung cancer; and she never smoked a cigarette. The power-chick is a few years out from stage three ovarian cancer. I'm at a loss here because I'm sitting there with just a little hypertension ( I have to come by every three months for a follow-up in which my doctor checks my blood pressure and then talks to me for twenty minutes about my dog). Obviously I didn't need to bring a book. During the hour wait I probably talk more than I do in a week. I now know all about these people and the hour has passed quickly. Perhaps it was the lousy magazines or the lack of a flat screen, but somehow the boring waiting room has become a point of social interaction. The "Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act" (HIPAA) doesn't apply to a doctor's waiting room. It's not hard to understand. It's a Southern thing.