medical malpractice

I learned earlier this year that I have pretty bad allergies. I guess that's why I was sick 10 times last year, and I had no idea. So now I'm doing immunotherapy, which involves weekly shots of gradually-increasing doses of whatever I'm allergic to (mostly weeds), and supposedly I'll be allergy-free in five years. It's pretty cool!

Or, it was until last Tuesday...

I pull into the parking lot at 4:40, five minutes before the allergy clinic closes. I need to get my shot today because I don't have time later this week. My phone rings. It's this therapist I've been playing phone tag with all week. I really need to talk to her, so I answer. I talk to her in the car for a few minutes, hoping it will be a fast call, but she clearly wants to chit-chat about the client. I walk into the office, still on the phone.

It's 4:45, just under the wire. The lobby is packed with people who already got their shots, and are now waiting the required 20 minutes to make sure they don't have a reaction. I walk up to the counter to sign in. All 25 slots on the sheet are full, so I write myself in as number 26. The first 25 people's names have a hash mark, so I know I'm next to get my shot. I don't even bother to sit down because I know she's going to call my name soon. I wander around the waiting room for a minute, trying to wrap up the call with this therapist, waiting for my turn.

I look back at the counter. The nurse opens the fridge and grabs some vials. I know they are mine, so I meet her at the front. We smile at each other, no words exchanged because she sees I'm on an important call. She knows me -- I've been coming here every week for six months. We go in the little room. I pull up my sleeve (right one first, I know the drill) and she sticks me.

Then, she hesitates......

She leaves the room without giving me the other shot. I tell the therapist I need to hang up. The nurse comes back and says, "I didn't see your name at the bottom of the sign-in sheet..." I guess some chick walked in after me and signed up on spot #1 on the second page. The nurse grabbed her vials instead. I say, "So I got the wrong shot?" She says, "Yeah." I'm waiting for her to say I'm going to die, but she seems cool about it. She gives me the correct shot in my left arm. She tells me to sit in the waiting for 20 minutes -- standard practice. I'm the last person in the waiting room. Staff wants to go home. By 5:05, I'm feeling fine. She tells me I can leave. No problems here!

At home, I cook a nice dinner for Joe, and sit down with a glass of wine to wait for him. Around 7:30, I notice my throat is hurting. Maybe I'm dehydrated and shouldn't be drinking. I've been really tired lately -- did my mono come back? Shit. It's 7:45 and my ears start to feel hot. I check them out in the mirror and they are pretty red. Is it the wine? Maybe I just need to clean my earrings. Joe should hurry home because I'm hungry. At 8:00, my bottom lip starts to tingle. WTF this wine must be strong! I cut myself off and lay down to watch TV. I'm pretty cold, so I layer on the blankets. Must be the weather outside. At some point I fall asleep...

I wake up to Joe yelling, "What is up with your face?" Hmm, it does feel kinda weird, like I've been at the dentist earlier today. Actually, I feel like complete shit. My chest hurts, I itch everywhere, and my eyelids are nearly swollen shut. And my ears are still burning!

Joe calls the allergist's after-hours hotline. The bitch tells him, "I can't contact the doctor unless you say this is an emergency." No, we're calling to make an appointment you idiot. Joe (who rarely yells) yelled at her for a while until she agreed to have a doctor call. Two hours later, no doctor has called, and my face is just getting more swollen. Now my chest hurts.

Joe calls back and gets a nice operator. The doc calls 5 minutes later. He tells me to take Benadryl every 4 hours and buy some hydrocortizone cream. I'm not putting that shit on my face! So I just go to sleep, hoping my airway passage doesn't close off in the middle of the night.

Here's my favorite part of the story. The nurse -- the one who jacked me up -- calls the next morning to check on me. I guess she got word from the hotline or from the doc that I had called. She says, "I know there was some miscommunication because you were on the phone (blaming the victim) but I just left the room to get your other vial because I only grabbed one the first time (backpedaling). You definitely got the right shot (LYING!!!). It's just that you're really sensitive to weeds, and there are lots of weeds in the air right now, so the combination of your shot and the air can really trigger a reaction (then why hasn't that happened after the last 25 shots?)" I'll call the doc to see if we can get you a stronger script.

Now the point of all this is: 1. to make you laugh at the visual of my face swelled up like a puffer fish, and 2. to ask why the HELL people can't take responsiblity for things. I honestly didn't care about getting the wrong shot. Accidents happen. I shouldn't have been on the phone. It got me a half day off work. But to change your story and flat out lie? That's just messed up, and now I might say something to her boss next time I go in there.