Blogging friends and family, I need your help. I have written the letter that I promised to write. Please read and help with some feedback. I would like to get this letter delivered as soon as possible. THANK YOU!
Dear Thomas A. Clairmont:
I was recently a patient at your hospital in Franklin, NH. (10/29-10/31/2008) I was scheduled for a same day procedure but ended up staying a couple of days because of some minor complications. This was my first experience at the Franklin Hospital. Turns out it will be my last. My surgery consisted of a “hysteroscopy and D&C”. The pre-surgical team was great, the post-surgical team was great as well. It wasn't until I got moved up to the floor (2nd to be exact) that things started to go down hill. After surgery, I tend to have a reaction to the narcotics that I am given. My body itches all over. To help with this reaction, the nurses usually give me some IV Benadryl. Up on the floor I was begging for some benadryl as my dose had worn off. The nurses continually told me “no” and that “you don't need it”. After begging and begging some more, I was told “just stop itching, you're only making it worse.” Because they denied me the benadryl, I rubbed the skin off my nose which created a scab, and I caused sores all over my body from itching so badly. I was eventually reduced to tears while begging for relief when the nurse finally responded, “FINE, I'll go get it for you.” All through that first night I listened to an elderly lady moan and yell out in pain. She was ignored throughout the whole night. She verbalized her pain, but they continued to ignore her. When they finally came in to help her their voices dripped with annoyance. Time after time when I used my call button I was either ignored or rudely told “we're trying to find your nurse”. After waiting over an hour at a time I would push the call button (this time to get help to use the bathroom) and again the staff would say “we're TRYING to locate your nurse!” and then hang up on me, never asking me what I had called for. It was degrading. I felt trapped. I felt inhuman. I wanted to leave so badly but because my potassium levels were low, the doctor wanted to keep me another night. “I can't stay here ANOTHER NIGHT!” I thought. Maybe if they had brought me a meal tray in the first 48 hours, my potassium levels might not have dropped. That's right, the nurses never offered me anything to eat or drink. Just for the record, I was on a regular diet. That meant that I should have been eating AND drinking. Because I was in a narcotic haze, I couldn't think straight or make any decisions for myself. Isn't this what nurses are for? Where was the compassion? Did they know that I had just recently been through 4 other procedures in the past four months? They should have, it was in my chart. Did they realize that I had JUST lost a baby at 20 weeks? They should have, it was in my chart. I am still trying to recover from this traumatic experience in my life while going through more surgeries. The nurses didn't care. They SHOULD have. It worries me that others (such as the elderly lady that was beside me) have to go through similar experiences as mine. If these nurses have lost their compassion then they need to go. I have had such wonderful experiences at LRGH and it frightens me to think that Franklin is associated with that hospital. I am writing you this letter to make you aware of the kind of treatment that I received at the Franklin Hospital. I want you to know that I am someone with excellent health insurance and that all my bills will be payed. On the other hand, I want you to know that I feel I was heavily short changed. My stay at the Franklin Hospital was no less than a nightmare. One that I couldn't escape from fast enough. In closing I want you to know that as I was being wheeled down from my room to my waiting car, the nurse realized my IV was still in my arm. She ran into the nearest bathroom, grabbed some crunchy paper towels, literally ripped the IV from my arm and threw the paper towels at me telling me to apply pressure to my now gaping wound and then wheeled me out the door. That was the icing on the cake. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me.