When Hospitals F*ck Up

With the amount of money that I pay for insurance premiums and deductibles, I expect the royal treatment if I ever have to take advantage of having insurance. This has NOT been the case with my last two experiences with a hospital that shall remain unnamed (but if I were to name names it would be SSMH).

When my husband dislocated his finger playing volleyball a few months ago we went to the ER because, based on the guy who hit his hand, I was fairly certain that it was broken as well as being dislocated. Empty waiting room. Empty ER. Incompetent nursing staff. Two hour debacle. Fabulous doctor. Exorbitant bill. All this equals irate wife.

Jenna’s home let us know that Jenna would be having a procedure done at SSMH’s Outpatient center. With her special needs, any dental work requires that she be put under, which means outpatient care. I got the expected phone call requesting approval for the procedure. I gave approval and requested that someone call me as soon as she was out of surgery. They said they would make that note in her chart so that the nurse would give me a call when Jenna was done.

I got a call from Mark stating that she should be done at 3:30, so I left work early and headed over there to meet him in the waiting room. He had spoken with the lady at the desk and asked that they let us know when she was ready to be seen. The board in the waiting room indicated that she was still in the OR. We waited a bit more. The status changed to “Recovering from anesthesia.” So Mark again asked the lady at the counter to let us know when we could go back.

We piddled around on our phones while we waited, obsessively watching the board for a change in her status. Lady at the desk left. Mark and I had the whole waiting room to ourselves. Not a soul around.

Time passed.

An hour after her procedure, the status board still indicated “Recovering from anesthesia.” I told Mark I was going to ask someone how long it would be.  Nobody at the front desk. I went around the corner and found two double doors, both indicating “Do not enter.” One office. I peeked in the office and it was empty.  I double-checked the status board. “Recovering from anesthesia.”

I told Mark that there was not a person to be found.

We sat for another 15 minutes. Mark finally got up and walked back towards the empty desk. Five minutes later he returned, “They sent her home 20 minutes ago.”


Perhaps I’ll skip the part about the EPIC fit that I threw! Rest assured, I was an irate momma!

I’m astounded that an industry that is primarily service-centric and be so incompetent. If I NEVER have to deal with them again it’ll be too soon. Rest assured, the other hospital in my city will be getting all my business from here on out.


P.S.  Jenna’s fine, by the way – just dental work, but because of her issues, she has to have all that done as an outpatient because she has to be put under.

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