My grandpa was at the hospital for 13 days—and therefore, so was I. And I saw so much. Too much. My heart is basically broken.
I had no idea how necessary it is for patients to have advocates when patients cannot advocate for themselves. And that’s not just medically.
It’s at mealtimes, when somebody delivers a tray of food but leaves it just beyond the reach of an elderly patient whose limited mobility means he can’t eat unless somebody helps him (and nobody’s around to ask for help).
It’s when the doctors are making their rounds and the patient’s asleep or too sick or drugged to understand the doctors’ updates or questions, or when doctors use jargon without defining it.
It’s when a tech tells a patient to call the nurse’s station when she’s finished with the bedpan and leaves without ever coming back instead of deducing that the patient doesn’t have the strength to press the call button.
It’s when anybody asks an elderly patient if he or she needs anything but walks away because the patient “didn’t respond,” without regard for how slow some elderly people’s reaction times are, before the patient has even processed the question let alone answered it.
I had no idea how few patients on a given floor on a given day have advocates—I had no idea how alone so many of them are, even now that visitors are allowed again where I live.
I am not without empathy for people who work in that industry. All of them have hard jobs and hospitals are short-staffed. They’ve been through a lot. A few of the people who worked with my grandpa are attentive and conscientious and kind (and I showered them with compliments, to their faces and to their superior). Others are not.
And so I learned that the stories I had heard from others are true. Too many who are inattentive to detail, don’t think critically, and don’t have deductive reasoning skills are responsible for your loved ones’ care, and for yours. I’ve seen it now, with my own eyes. And I intervened with my own hands. I couldn’t not and still sleep at night.
Patients in the care of people like this don’t make it out of a hospital OK because of people like this. They make it out OK in spite of people like this. People like this don’t hold their jobs because of their skillset and work ethic. They hold their jobs in spite of them. But it's only a matter of time before each person like this does damage that can't be undone.
Until that happens (and sometimes even after it does), people like this get away with it. Their work is judged as competent. They check all the boxes. But the patient’s progress isn’t a product of their work; the patient’s progress, in terms of their work, is a coincidence. At absolute best, what people like this do while assigned to the patient is irrelevant—the patient would fare the same with or without them.
And I’m not saying every doctor, nurse, and patient tech must make a marked difference in a patient’s prognosis. I’m not even saying they’re supposed to heal people. That’s not entirely possible and it’s not the point.
I am saying they should provide truly quality care, treat patients with respect, and meet patients’ basic needs. I’m saying that being excellent at putting in a PICC line, for example, is an inadequate skill if you don’t also honor the dignity of the person into whose body you’re putting it.
When I posted about this to social media last week, I got feedback, including from nurses I know who admitted: In that setting, patients who can’t speak for themselves don’t get as high a quality of care as they would if their families or other advocates were there to step in.
If that’s not a crime, it should be.
What happens to the patients whose families can’t be there to help them eat, to remind the tech to take them off the bedpan, to stop the nurse who’s about to dispense a treatment the doctor ordered her to stop an hour ago? (Yes, that happened. And the nurse’s response was, “He did?”)
Now that I know what it’s like, I have to speak up. And you do, too.
We have to work together to bridge the gaps between patients and what they need. We need to change a system that’s failing a lot of people.
And I get how impossible that sounds.
It sounds just as impossible as David slaying Goliath.
Your post brought me to tears. Especially your words "broke my heart". Arleen, that term speaks beautifully of who you are...a woman of compassion. You united the suffering of your grandfather with your heart. You suffered with him, just like Simon and our Lord. You are a great gift to him and me.
Be assured of my most fervent prayers for your grandfather. Blessings, Michael
Been in your situation recently, agree with your description entirely. I would leave the hospital each night wondering how many elderly patients would be there the next morning. Feeling so bad for those that had no one advocating for them. Husband was there for 9 days, had surgery & fortunately I was there most days from 6:30 am - 8:30 pm. I worried until I got back the next morning. To say our healthcare system is broken is an understatement. All this while racking up a bill of over $364,597.50. God help us.