After my gynecologist retired, I made an appointment with a new one. I had excessive bleeding and pain. Dr. Sterman, a good old soul, offered me some choices, and I decided to get a D&C.
I found myself at Millard Fillmore Suburban. I gave birth to my son at that place and was fiercely disappointed – angry - with the care I received there, or lack of it.
I lay on the hospital bed, waiting to be anesthetized. My mom had given me a ride and sat with me for a while. We engaged in idle talk to pass the time.
Then a hefty Chinese woman who had speckles all over her head and face, entered my room, with a red-haired American student. She introduced herself as a resident and began telling me that she and this student were going to watch my surgery. I said no. She lost her temper like a shotgun, yelling, “This is a teaching hospital!” “I don’t want anyone in my surgery watching,” I cut in, though intimidated. She pointed to the young male next to her. “He’s a student -” she said. I told her, again, weakly “- No students!” The woman began shouting, and so rapidly that I couldn’t understand her. She was loud. I turned and looked at my mother. My mom softly stated, “She doesn’t want any students to be there.” The male lowered his head, appearing greatly disappointed. “I don’t want you in the OR either,” I said to the large resident. She looked angry for a moment, then it appeared that an idea popped into her head, she smiled and joined the male student who was waiting for her in the doorway. The two walked off together happily.
It was an ordeal. I felt very badly. I knew the resident had no right to talk to me like that, and that as a patient I had the right to decline students and residents from participating in my treatment. The incident ruined everything for me. If I hadn’t been caught off-guard and intimidated, I would have said loudly and clearly, “Don’t you fucking dare come into the operating room with me!” My mother didn’t understand why I was so upset. It mattered to me whether or not I was being observed. Others may not have minded, but I did. I considered it an indignity. And this was a D&C, a scraping of the uterine wall, which made the situation far worse.
After it was over, I walked through the interior of the hospital, down many different hallways with my mother and a nurse’s aide. At one point along the way, I turned and gave a look to the aide as if to say, “I don’t need you anymore.” She saw a man hanging out in the hall, an employee of the hospital, and asked him to escort me out. I don’t know what his position was at Millard, but he was conveniently present and could assist me. He escorted me to the parking lot and down the long walkway towards the street where the cars entered and exited. My mom went to retrieve her car. It suddenly became windy. And cold. The man said, “I don’t have my coat!” He repeated this several times and began to leave. I was unsteady on my feet and felt like I was going to fall. The anesthesia hadn’t completely worn off and I was given a painkiller in the recovery room. I was about to fall backwards. “That’s the car!” I said to the man. He was on his way back to the hospital but believed me about the car. We’d been waiting fifteen minutes. A racing-green Toyota appeared and pulled up. It just happened to be my mother – thankfully! The man was going to abandon me and I would have fallen backwards and cracked the back of my fucking head!
After I had been home several days, I sent an email to Millard Fillmore Suburban, complaining about the resident, the nameless Chinese woman. They contacted me by phone. I couldn’t believe they actually paid attention to my complaint. I told them that she demanded that she and the student watch because “this is a teaching hospital.” The staff took my report very seriously, which I did not expect. I was in touch with them several times.
They checked into the situation and said that the student had not been in the operating room with me. They did not say anything about the resident, so I assumed she was present. And I don’t know what part she played in the OR. I think they were afraid to tell me.
They informed me that they held a meeting for all of the students and residents regarding patient rights. And that the hefty Chinese woman was in the hands of some administrative official. I knew she was in serious trouble. I don’t know what ultimately happened to her, but I would have preferred that the ordeal never occurred in the first place rather than to see her punished. But they did address my complaint, and I give them credit for that much.
I didn’t want to confuse these people and tell them about the man who walked me through the parking lot. Or the fact that the nurses would not give me a second sanitary pad after I lost the first one. They also removed my gown after surgery and had me in the room completely undressed when they gave me my clothes to put back on. My mother did not need to see my body so intimately, and neither did the three nurse’s aides in the room. And I did not bother to mention intake giving me a thousand questions when I came in. They learned everything about me but my cat’s name, age, and phone number.
These actions taken together, along with Millard Fillmore’s performance in “The Birth of Baby James” – the birth of my son - I’ve decided that Millard Fillmore Suburban Hospital is one of the worst hospitals in the world (Kenmore Mercy is a close second). When I am on my deathbed, take me anywhere but there, I would seriously rather die instead. This is a testament to my final wishes.
