Mistakes happen every day in medical facilities.  Anyone who says they don't is very naive.  Hospitals use people, people make mistakes.  Sometime major mistakes occur, usually mistakes are caught before they become big ones.  The nursing staff is usually not adequately staffed, and frequently under appreciated.  If you want good care in a hospital be nice to the nurses, they are the ones who take care of you.  If they are good ones they will take on the doctor to help you.  How often do you see a doctor in the hospital once or twice a day.  The nurse is there for 8-12 hours each day.  The nurse is the one who actually tells the doctor what is going on with you.  The nurse is the person who will call the doctor at 2 a.m. if something is wrong and will get chewed out by the doctor for calling.  They will also get chewed out for not calling

mmc88121

Last year while in the hospital for an outpatient procedure, I listened as my doctor told me how lucky I was because the procedure was cheaper at his hospital than at <<fill in name of nearby and very prestigious hospital>>.  Then he ordered a follow-up procedure and said how lucky I was because *that procedure* (which involved a barium cocktail and, what else, radiation) would be covered completely by my healthcare provider.

"All well and good," I said wondering why we were discussing economics at a time when my body felt like the malfunctioning robot on LOST IN SPACE, "but do I really NEED this procedure?"

He looked at me strangely as if turning the discussion from hospitals as competing businesses to hospitals as mere health facilities were passing odd.  "Of course," he said (tone = that stock reply kind of voice).

Unfortunately, I was at a huge disadvantage in that I was desperate for answers and no one seemed to be able to diagnose my problem.  To make bad worse, the pathologists in this "reasonably-priced hospital" told my doctor that the biopsy indicated pre-cancerous cells of a type of cancer that would dispatch of me within the year.  I asked for and waited four weeks (OK, four weeks that felt like years) for a second opinion from a more prestigious (and expensive, as if I care when I'm "dying") hospital, which ultimately indicated no cancer at all -- pre, post, or imaginary.

What a roller coaster.  What a thrill ride.  My body eventually healed itself (after throwing sparks for 7-weeks) and, despite all the prescribed tests, my doctor was none the wiser as to what the heck had happened to me during the whole trauma.  He and his hospital were some the richer, however, having thrown every modern gadget and gizmo they had in their arsenal at it (my body, that is).

Is this a conflict of interest?  I don't know.  I only share it because I'm conflicted and hope you're interested. 

The bottom line for me?  I no longer trust doctors like I used to.  I no longer bow to the white coat as a symbol of supreme authority.  And I now understand in spades that doctors are mere practitioners and often as flummoxed as your average Joe in the street if the symptoms don't cooperate and follow the letter of the Merck Manual.

That's the moral of this simple morality tale, anyway.  Reader experiences may vary according to doctor and hospital...