Finally “they” have decided that I am too sick to be sent home. They can’t risk me running around “humping Petunias”. The doctor with apocalyptic face delivers this news with charm of a man about to hang himself. “We don’t know what’s going on but we need more investigations”. “There could be so many things wrong with you”.
Now “they” are trying to find me a place to admit. They first call someone called a Hospitalist. He is immediately concerned. He felt that I am too sick to be admitted on a regular medical floor. He did not feel comfortable taking care of someone trying to hump petunias. What if he tries to hump other patients on the floor?
They call someone called Intensivist (ICU specialist). He immediately tells them that I am not sick enough to be in ICU. “Humping Petunias is not a reason to be in ICU”. My doc tries to make the argument that I am on an oxygen mask. The Intensivist though seems like a tough nut to crack. “Not the face mask again for god’s sake. You guys put a face mask on everything that walks in”. My doc mentions that Hospitalist does not want to admit me as I am too sick and they do not feel comfortable. “Off course they are not! Nobody is comfortable with anyone who wants to hump petunias. But guess what neither am I!” My doc called Hospitalist again who politely told him to shove himself. My doc called Intensivist again who told him not so politely to shove himself. My doc begged for some kind of resolution. Intensivist took mercy and decided to talk to Hospitalist himself. Finally a decison has been made!
I will indeed be in ICU but not as an ICU patient. I will be someone called an “intermediate level” under Hospitalist care with possible involvement of Intensivist if needed. My own medical complexity has started to impress me. Someone else walked in with another tube and took some more blood because “the doc wants more tests”.
Someone from billing department comes in. But they immediately inform her that “he is confused”. They are talking that I might have to be in ER for some time because ICU is full. Off course me being “confused” they don’t talk to me.
At this time I am enjoying fine hospitality of world’s greatest health care system…in ER, in a bed with my hands tied, a catheter in my bladder, Oxygen mask strapped on my face, officially “confused” and a Petunia humper. I am living the dream and as some of the urine sprayed on sheets, it is a wet dream. To be continued…