Keystone Kops Capers

For a little history, go to:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keystone_Cops

If you've been reading what's been going on, I'm sure you understand why I refer to all this as the Keystone Kops.

I've put off writing this in hopes that time would ease my anger, and, in a way, it has, but but when I decided to write this blog, I wrote it with the intent that this would be an honest account of what's been going on, along with my hopes, fears, and frustrations.

I've cried a lot over the past few weeks, my sleep has been fucked up, and I've been really afraid, and it's all been for good reason. Cancer is scary. The only thing more frightening is incompetence. I've dealt with both, and it's taken its toll on me. I look like shit.  Friends have told me that I look sick and tired. (I wonder why?)

When I last posted, I mentioned that the Urologist was going to send paperwork to the GP (the one who adamantly refused to do a PSA test in the first place) for a referral to an Oncologist.  The GP cancelled and rescheduled the appointment with my husband THREE TIMES!!! (Who me? Angry? Understatement!) So finally the day arrived, and I think the doctor purposely made it his last appointment (5:30PM) just to further aggravate me. So, when we arrived, the office was empty of patients. Because my husband was no longer employed, he was on Covered California Insurance (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Covered_California) and when he checked in with the new insurance, we were informed that the GP could not see him, because his insurance wasn't accepted there. 

We've had this doctor for over 4 years. The Receptionist and Medical Assistant know me well, and I saw the shock on their faces when I walked up to the desk, and said in a sharper than normal tone:

"What did you just say?! Are you telling me that my husband can't be seen by the doctor? You are aware that my husband has aggressive prostate cancer, and that it's metastasized to his lymph system, are you not? If my husband fucking dies before he can get to an Oncologist, I will hold you personally responsible!"

They looked a little scared, because they had never seen me that angry before.  I continued:

"This is MY Husband, not someone off the street, and doctor (name redacted) has the information needed, and I don't know how long all the transfer of information will take. Do you really want the responsibility of his death on your hands?"

They looked even more frightened.

"Are you telling me that you won't accept cash for this appointment? How much do you need? This is my husband."  

At this point, tears were running down my face. I was really worked up.  

"Cash is $140" said the Receptionist. I told them we had it, and they escorted us into the exam room. On the way in, I apologized for being so upset, but reminded them that if the situation was with their husband, I'm sure they would react the same way.

Apparently the GP didn't know about the scene I caused in the waiting room, because he came in all smiles. I told him that the Urologist sent him paperwork about the prostate cancer.  The smile disappeared, and he had the nerve to lecture my husband on not getting a PSA test done sooner! He placed all the blame on my husband! I not-so-gently reminded him that I had requested a test well over 2 years ago, and many times thereafter. The GP had his receptionist check to see who would accept the new medical insurance, and sent a referral to a local Oncologist. Attached was this note from the Urologist:

As you can see, I redacted all identifying information. When we went to pay, they reduced the price for the visit from $140 to $80. I thanked them again, and we left.

With that done, we just had to wait another 4 days for my Husband to see his "New" GP.

The "New" GP

So, the appointment with the "New" GP was scheduled for 7:30 AM on a Saturday morning. I noticed when we got there that the cramped waiting room had seating for a dozen people, and we took the last 2 seats. Soon, it was overflowing with at least 20 people, most of them speaking too loudly in various languages and there was a distinct odor of unwashed bodies. I was far more disturbed by the odor and overflow than anything else. Then the noise got to me. I'm hypersensitive to noise, and after 2 hours of waiting, my patience was wearing thin. When he finally got called in, they explained that the doctor set one appointment time for everyone and that is why there was such a long wait.  My husband is hard of hearing, and his sense of smell is shot, so he didn't even notice what had me so disturbed, but when I repeated to him what he was told (louder, because the nurse was practically whispering) he told her that he was leaving and not coming back.

When we got home, he called and requested a new doctor, explaining the conditions at the waiting room of the doctor he was assigned, and explained (again) about his cancer, and the urgent nature of him needing to see a Doctor that could take care of his needs.  He was reassigned a new doctor, and called for an appointment after the weekend was over.

And again, We Waited...