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Healthy as a Horse No More: My Recent Patient Experience
I knew that I would come to rue the day I wrote my post on my EKG claiming I was a healthy individual with no apparent illnesses. On November 3, I had my first surgery in 40 years – a procedure for a detached retina (vitrectomy with a scleral buckle and pneumatic retinopexy; I read that off a brochure I received). I am not an expert patient and my impressions are of a single incident but I felt compelled to write about my particular patient experience along with my personal observations.
First, for acute surgical procedures, our medical system works very well and its quality probably matches or exceeds any place in the world. I was first seen by a retina specialist at 8:00 a.m. and successfully operated on without incident by 4:30 p.m. I was discharged by 7:00 p.m. My surgeon was excellent and his bedside manner was terrific.
The day prior to the surgery, I saw an ophthalmologist who gave me the initial bad news, “You have a detached retina.” Like the lead character from the movie and play, Wit, I didn’t hear everything the physician said for the next 10 minutes. I had to ask him to repeat everything he said in the past ten minutes. I went from thinking about meetings I needed to cancel to being blind in both eyes with a tin cup in hand in what felt like minutes. I admit to being anxious and afraid even though I knew this most likely would all turn out just fine. But the moment when I leapt from being healthy to ill was a real shock, something underappreciated by most.
During the day of the surgery, I was seen by lots of practitioners for my pre-op work-up. Most of the clinicians did not introduce themselves by name or tell me what kind of practitioner they were. Mistakenly, I thought the second eye technician was an optometrist. None of them asked me what I wanted to be called by. Of course, I started to ask for their names and training.
There was alternative procedure mentioned but the surgeon recommended not doing it (and it turned out it was the right call). But I didn’t appreciate the “if this was my father or mother, this would be what I would recommend” caveat. I’m not his father, I just met him! He might choose to be more aggressive treating his father, whereas I might want more conservative treatment.
The safety movement was in full display at this institution – I counted 10 times being asked what eye was affected, right or left, even after the surgeon pasted a mighty black mark above the eyelid of the right eye – annoying, perhaps, but understandably necessary.
None of the fellows and attending surgeon sat down to speak with me eye-to-eye (how ironic) – they stood up. The subordinate relationship as a patient was quite apparent and not empowering. It wasn’t until a follow-up visit with a senior surgeon that a physician sat down when talking to me. He was shocked when I told him he was the first.
Patient education was lacking – not much written material was provided on what to expect when healing. The fellows had more time to talk with you about when the gas bubble would disappear and regular activity could presume. Once home, there was no one to talk with about what was normal or abnormal in the healing process except for the physician on-call. Later, I was told there was a daytime number to call – too late.
All and all, I received excellent surgical care but not patient-centered care.
Update: My current status is that my gas bubble has disappeared and my eye sight is still blurring but everything is progressing normally and I am feeling great.
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