Being mom's primary caretaker (and being her daughter) necessitates taking on another role - being her advocate. I try to do my best to make sure that her medical staff takes good care of her but does so with compassion. However, sometimes compassion is hard to come by in medical offices. Administrative staff especially (in our experience) can be unfeeling and harsh at times. An important skill I have learned is when to hold my tongue and when to let it go.
Last week I had scheduled an abdominal/pelvic ultrasound for her at the request of her primary physician, a man that everyone in our family loves and idolizes. She had been experiencing some pains in her abdomen and he wanted to make sure that everything was okay. Neither he nor I thought about the fact tthat the pelvic ultrasound prep could turn out to be a horrible trial for her (as it can for any woman). I had her drink her 32 ounces of water before leaving for the appointment, knowing that she would be in pain before we got there from having to hold her full bladder, but not expecting what was going to happen.
Apparently, she was so dehydrated that the water rushed to her bowels instead of filling her bladder. Halfway to the appointment and stuck in morning traffic, she told me she needed to make a bowel movement. I hung my head and asked her to hold on.
We arrived at the office, where I asked her to sit down while I got her checked in. She was telling me she couldn't wait anymore, so I informed the receptionist of the situtation and asked her to let us use the restroom. She told me that doing so would require rescheduling the pelvic portion of the exam (which I already knew). I told her I understood but we needed to go. She told me the tech would be out in just 2 - 3 minutes and asked me if we could wait. I asked mom to wait. She made it about one more minute before telling me she couldn't wait anymore. I told the receptionist we couldn't wait anymore and she repeated that we would ruin the pelvic exam. I told her, "I know, but we have to go. Now." Meanwhile there are five other women in the room watching the situation develop. And I was painfully aware, even if the recptionist was not, that the exam would be ruined either way. The receptionist tells someone else what is going on with us, then comes back and repeats, AGAIN, that we will have to reschedule the pelvic exam. I refrained from strangling her and took mom to relieve herself.
We returned to the waiting room and sat down.Ten minutes later, mom looks at me and asks if they forgot us. I told her that I was watching the clock. After another ten minutes, I took another deep breath and went up to the counter. "I just wanted to let you know that she was able to hold her bladder," I said. "So it's twenty minutes past her appointment time and we've been here half an hour?" The receptionist said, "Oh, I know! It''l be just a few more minutes . . . " I couldn't help saying, "I just couldnt' tell if you were making us wait longer because of the bathroom or what." Then the receptionist finally said the previous patient was just taking a little extra time to complete and the tech would be with us as soon as possible.
After the exam was over, they asked me to reschedule the pelvic. I already knew I was going to have to fight to cancel it, but I went ahead and scheduled it anyway. Then on the way home I called the doctor and left a message, explained that we had failed the pelvic, and asked if it was really necessary. His nurse called me back and and said he really wanted it but they could possibly do a CT scan if that would be easier. So I thanked her and cancelled the pelvic. We can talk about the CT the next time we see the doctor in person.
Mom's abdominal came back normal and she is no longer having pains. After discussing this with her and the hospice nurse I'm pretty certain that the pains were caused by constipation brought on by dehydration. The doctor will understand, I know. But I'd never try to explain that to a receptionist. Pick your battles, kid.
I screwed up by allowing them to schedule it in the first place. It won't happen again.
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