Another day at the meat processing plant.

Just a little blog filler for the day.

This morning I spent as I usually do on Wednesdays , at St. Marks Hospital volunteering in the Recovery Unit, or what I refer to as the "chop shop." If you ever really thought that medicine is not a money machine, then you are about as naive as I was when I started there 7 months ago. The patients come in post op, get off their anesthesia, get injected with multiple medications, and are carted off to other areas of the hospital. Visualize a rotating belt normally seen in factories, but instead of dead chickens or computer parts, visualize cousin Mary who just had a hysterectomy, Aunty Margie just had her L5-6 fused, and Grampa Joe who has just had his gall bladder ripped out. After about 45 minutes in recovery they are off to the races to the next level of over priced "care."

Do I sound bitter? To be honest, I like most of the nurses and the orderlies. Generally there is a sense of appreciation for my time spent there. HOWEVER.......there are some very special doctors, or surgeons that feel that all human beings are subject to their will and every demand.

Today, a doctor of the female persuasion came swaggering into the recovery area with some serious attitude. She marched up to the desk (where I sit managing phone calls, room reservations, and family notification.....yah the hospital's to damn cheap to actually pay someone to do this job. It can be extremely chaotic sometimes.) and demanded to see the family of her patients.

Problem A. I have no idea who the bleep this Beeotch is. So I very professionally ask her name. She looked at me like I had cut open her jugular. My name is Dr. Princess (a name I later found amusingly placed on her by the staff) !

Problem B. Generally, doctors come out of surgery with their patients, this is when I am informed that they are coming to recovery. This chicky doodle comes out a full hour ahead of schedule because her part of the surgery is over. Not really a problem, but a little out of the ordinary. Since I am only there 1 day a week for 4 hours, it was new to me.

I had to spend the time to locate her patient, and then call the front desk to inform them that Dr. Princess wants a conference room STAT! Meanwhile, in complete disgust at my lack of ability to read minds and the future, little Missy stands over me tapping her feet! You have got to be kidding me!!!

Apparently this individual cannot read the "volunteer" label on my bright green volunteer jacket. Once I got off the phone, I looked at her and said "okay, they will have a room for you when one comes available." I looked back down to my work. "What room will it be?" she said with contention. "I don't know since there isn't one currently available." Apparently I am unaware she is the only doctor in the hospital. She flips her head and swaggers back out with total disgust, saying something under her breath.
As she departed, I thought to myself "thank god she isn't my doctor."

I originally started volunteering for selfish reasons. I was considering a transition from teaching into medicine. I will say 95% of the time, everyone is very respectful, but it is the system as a whole that leads one to believe that this is no different than spending your day in some manufacturing plant or fortune 500 corporation. At the end of the day, its all about the money.
The thing that disgusts me most is that these are people, sick people who have had major surgery, and it just doesn't sit well with me to have so little time and concern over their well being. I think it says it all that my patient list; which has the surgery info and doctor name, lists their insurance company information right next to the patient's name. Someday they will just skip the name all together and just put account number in its place.