I’m going to be doing something today that I haven’t done for years. I’m going to memorial services.
My petsitter’s husband died last Saturday. He was only thirty-six. It didn’t have to happen. It wasn’t anything he did wrong. It wasn’t a car accident, it wasn’t a work accident, he didn’t slip and fall and hurt his head.
It was medical malpractice.
Last Wednesday, he was having a hard time swallowing. His wife took him to their provider’s ER. He was given a shot, told he had a sore throat, then sent home.
Thursday, she took him back in. He couldn’t talk. They said he had “laryngitis”, gave him more meds, then sent him home.
Friday, she called a friend of theirs and asked if he could take her husband in, since he now was looking blue. This time, the hospital admitted him.
They took an x-ray and saw something in his throat. Could be a tumor, could be an abcess. They called in a specialist who gave Mike hell because Mike was having a hard time holding still. Told Mike that he had other patients he had to see and he wanted to get this done so he could get to “his” patients.
I don’t think another doctor came in after that. Becky spent the night in her husband’s room and Saturday, he kept trying to remove or do something with the oxygen mask he had over his face. The nurse kept replacing it. At one point, Mike looked at his wife, put his hands on his chest, and stopped breathing. He died in the hospital.
She’s already had an autopsy done. It was a ruptured abcess in his throat. Putting a tube down his throat would have kept him alive.
She’s already got a lawyer, who already has his medical files for the past year.
This health care provider is the same one who killed my father through their negligence. They’re the same provider who said my mother had heart problems, even though the tests came up inconclusive. They prescribed nitroglycerine for her. One Sunday, we ended up at ER because she was having severe chest pains and couldn’t catch her breath.
After many tests, it turned out she had some sort of esophageal problem, due to acid reflux. Not a heart problem at all. The severe chest pains were heartburn and she couldn’t catch her breath because she was hyperventilating.
I hate this health care provider. I absolutely hate them. They kill people.
Mike didn’t have to die. Becky didn’t have to be a widow so young. Four children, the baby recently adopted, the next youngest (who was also a foster baby) turning a year old next month, didn’t need to lose their father. The children are coping at this point.
Becky isn’t working. She doesn’t want to sell their home because “Mike worked his ass off” to get it for her. She won’t give it up. She said she’ll take two jobs if she has to.
He didn’t have to die.