Been in the hospital lately? Well I have and it’s no picnic and Doctor House was no where to be found. I’m convinced they tried to kill me several times by puncture wounds, IV’s that ran out, IV’s that infiltrated my arm, and lab technicians trying to stab me without realizing their partner in crime had just left the room with what seemed to be a pint of my precious life’s flow. On my first day, the cheery nurse wearing what appeared to be a jogging suit (in case you don’t remember in ancient times they appeared in starched white uniforms and caps) gave me my sleeping pill at 8am. Then at night when I couldn’t sleep because the patient in the next room had died and the family was screaming in the halls, I asked for a sleeping pill and you’d think I had asked for heroin. Have you ever tried to sleep in the hospital at night? Forget about it. The halls are a-buzz 24/7.
But aside from the comedic attempt to snuff my young life out at age 56, what I discovered is that a patient has little or no privacy.Ever heard of HIPPA? It’s the Health Insurance Portability and Accountabality Act or so-called privacy act. However well intentioned as most government programs are, what I came to realize is that it’s basically more government bureaucracy and paperwork that does precious little to protect my privacy. The reality is that after signing my life away and having to show my power of attorney before they’d give me a bed, the patient in the other bed with whom I shared the room, knows everything about me and I got to know my room mate very well. So well in fact, I know that he attempted suicide when he was 16 years old with a self inflicted gun shot wound to the head. I know which medications he is taking, and I know that he had a slight seizure which landed him in the hospital this time. I know his sister, his father and where he lives. How do I know these intimate personal details? Our beds were separated by only a thin nylon curtain. Every time a nurse, a resident or physician came in to conduct an exam, they ask these types of questions to construct a detailed medical history. And this is repeated several times during the day and night depending on who else from the medical team determines they need more information for the history books.
More should be done to protect the patient’s privacy but this “feel-good” HIPPA red tape does little more than create extra paperwork. Where is Doctor House when you need him?
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