Friday, May 3, 2013

"healthcare" in TX is criminal....

Out of respect for the patient involved and his family, I'm going to keep things anonymous for now. This is not only to help maintain his dignity, but also to ensure he doesn't start getting worse care or even kicked out of the facility he's in. So, I'll call the patient, Bert. And, Bert lives in a Dallas suburb, is a senior citizen, and has been fighting cancer for some time now. This is his second bout with cancer, but it is a different kind -- apparently once you've beaten cancer once, you're more likely to "catch" it again, even if the original body part/organ is no longer there.
Following this section, you can read the basics of this story, but I want to make sure you don't stop reading before you hear what kind of hell Dallas, TX is for anyone with an illness or disability. This is the thing -- this isn't my first observation of Dallas healthcare being incompetent, uncaring, and inhumane. And none of those three words are exaggerations by any means.... So, Bert was released form the hospital into the care of a rehabilitation hospital. His floor seems to be filled with transplant patients, transplants of some sort or another. This place is as fabulous as a state run nursing home (something else I know enough about), and there's nothing fabulous about that. In fact, we walked by a woman begging for help, quietly, but begging. We saw several nurses, aides, whatever walk past her and ignore her, pleading to be immediately taken to the bathroom. We had to ask someone to help her.
Bert was dropped off the other day. He didn't see a nurse, admissions person, dr, or any other employee of the "care" facility for over 2 hours. He has specific dietary needs and it took them over 24 hours to get the dietician to him. He didn't see the doctor for over 24 hours after being admitted. I watched a nurse flip her hair and take her sweet little time, as Bert was begging for help to the bathroom. A blood tech came in to take blood, we informed him Bert had a port, and he said that a nurse had to do it, walked out, never came back and we never saw a nurse to pull blood before we left. Today, his catheter got pulled or something during his physical therapy (PT), started bleeding and leaking, and 3 hours later it hasn't been dealt with.
This is sick. I've been in the hospital several times, had 20+ surgeries, and been in several hospitals in 2 states. I got nurses fired in Lincoln for mistreating me. Now, if these people are treating patients that can speak up this way, how the hell are they treating the people that can't communicate? Is this how they would care for their mother, father or child? I think not.
In fact, one of my experiences in Dallas: the same ortho that saw Bert in the hospital saw me a couple years ago, after I found out I needed another fusion. He left me waiting for 3 hours past my appointment time, walked in, looked at me and told me that he doesn't do that surgery. Two days later, his nurse called to schedule it. I said, "Dr. Guess told me he doesn't do that surgery!" She said, "oh, he does it all the time, what do you mean?"
So, in Denver, CO the squeaky wheel gets the grease, in Dallas, the patients, scared, mistreated, and sick, are treated even worse if they alert anyone to the fact that the entire facility should be sued for malpractice....
OK, so, here are the basics of this story. Bert was diagnosed with cancer by chance -- he bent over to pick something up and had severe pain in his chest. Luckily he was already at the hospital, as a visitor, and the nurse brought him a wheelchair and they took him to the ER. Over the course of the next few days, things were a mess -- first, the ER doc diagnosed cancer. Then, the orthopedic doc said, no way, it's not cancer. Then the oncologist said, it's definitely cancer. Then, the ortho came in the room and argued with the Onco about whether or not it was cancer -yes, in front of us. Eventually, I don't know how many days later, the ortho backed down and the Onco won, it was cancer. Between the arguing doctors and the battling diagnoses, we had little time to think and even less time to act -- this was serious. We agreed, with the doctors in the hospital, that Bert would not be leaving the hospital (a famous hospital in Dallas which I'd like to refrain from naming at this time) until we a) had a firm and definite diagnosis and 2) had a solid, set-in-stone treatment plan. We had all those things before we left the hospital. We knew treatment would start with some chemo and/or radiation at a specific cancer clinic, and that after some chemo they would grow stem cells for him, from him, and then implant them. That step would involve a 2-4 weeks hospital stay, some time at a rehab hospital, then homebound for at least 6 months. Then, the medical professionals started changing appointments, claiming they had other patients worse off that needed to get in first.... When we left the hospital in July, the stem cell implant was going to be in January. He just had them done the beginning of April.
Now, let's talk

Thursday, May 2, 2013

It's been so long since I've blogged... not because I don't have anything to write about, quite the opposite. Actually, I've been having a bit of a struggle concerning my blog. I'm not quite sure that I reached a solid decision. I'm really struggling with how personal I want to get, how much I want to share, and what is inappropriate to share. I mean, some things have legal implications. Some, some things are just humiliating. Some things may be news to even my closest of friends and family, and some may be socially taboo. Some things may sound passive aggressive, and some things are just me venting, like a normal person, just venting.
There have been a lot of topics in the last month that I really wish I'd have written about here. My only real reason for not is, as I said above, I'm not sure how well I want you to know me, and I'm not sure how well I want to know me. But that's the path I'm on right now, learning about me again. I'm a much different person than I was before I lost my head. But not different enough, and not happy enough. Ultimately, not me enough. I'm rid of the hardcore and vicious vices of the days past, but I still hold on to some of those behaviors that come along for the ride. I don't care if you know what I'm talking about or not, I know.
I guess since it's been awhile since I've posted, I'll write something nice and positive. Actually, I really need to write about the following since it's still just a few days ago -- a week I guess.
So, I live in Denver. I am a CO resident, and I have the legal documentation allowing me to walk in to a specialty store, browse the flavors of the day, and walk out with up to 2 ounces of medical marijuana or candies/baked goods/other edible foods made with cannibis infused butter/oil. We call it the red card, a paycheck sized piece of paper with red ink, stating your name and other pertinent information necessary to legally purchase high grade marijuana grown to help people more easily handle the symptoms of many, many illnesses, diseases, and their treatments. I'm not using this post as a platform, however, for legalizing marijuana; I live in a state where it's already been accepted as medical treatment by the voters. For the record, I voted no last year on legalizing marijuana for all adults over 21.
No, the reason I'm writing this is because of the doctor that writes my annual prescription for my red card, Dr. Alan Shackelford.
Every dispensary owner in CO should know who he is. He's assisted in writing the laws. He's fought diligently for patient rights and medical regulation for patients. He's published, he's acted, and he saved my life.
My injury happened during a car accident outside of Lincoln, NE. I was in the hospital in Lincoln for about 5 weeks, at which point they released me and I came home to Denver with my mom. Though the hospital staff had made the doctor appointments required before my discharge, but they forgot the alert them to the fact that I had no insurance and no money. I was literally turned away from several doctors' offices, in a wheelchair, a halo, a CAM boot and with crossed eyes, because I couldn't pay. This was really the reason I had to hire an attorney -- I couldn't get medical care. I'd have to go to Denver General clinic and wait for hours in pain for pain medication because the hospital only gave me 3 days worth when I was released and no doctor in denver would let me thru the doors! So, the first thing my attorneys did for me was find me a doctor who would care for me on a lien -- when I received money from the insurance company the monies owed to them would be paid out before I was.
My first couple appointments I had a pretty cool, very capable doctor who recommended medical marijuana. This was before we had dispensaries, and I hated the idea of being a pothead so I said no fuckin' way!
After my first few visits (I think I went more than once a week back then), I walked in to a new doctor. I was pissed. I had finally learned to trust the other dr and he disappeared without warning or reason, but now, I had to learn to trust Dr. Shackelford.
I quickly trusted him and had great faith in all he said. He was smart, intuitive, and non-judgmental. And, he was cool! He listened, he cared, he inspired. He saw many, many landmarks in my recovery, and is personally responsible for my mental state and my growth back to being a pseudo-functional person. Dr. Shackelford made great recommendations, but I don't think he ever suggested #MMJ (medical marijuana). What he did do, is he saved my life. Not from some near fatal injury or chronic pain, which of course his treatments and RXs helped with. But he really saved me from myself and my own worst enemy, my thoughts. He was kind, not cold like most of the other doctors I had been treated by at that point. (We're talking, Dr. Shack was treating me starting around the month of April, 2007, just 3 months after the accident and the hospital and the 13 surgeries, so he saw me at my post-ICU worst.) My appearance didn't phase him, not like it did my friends, most of whom couldn't handle seeing me after the first time, not until I was "whole" again, or at least looked closer to the pre-accident Shannon. And everyone, dr's and not, was easily taken aback by my appearance. I mean, at all times, one eye was almost completely white, I had a cage on my head and walked like the Bride of Frankenstein. But Shack just looked at me the same way he does today (or did last week when I saw him!). He was relentless, researching and brainstorming anything and everything that may help me become close to "normal" again -- healed! He was amazing, he was always so encouraging, often spending so much time consoling and helping me that I would leave him several patients behind for the rest of the day, but he'd do it again the next appointment. His only concern, when I was in his exam room, was me. Not just my pain level or if I was constipated, but how I was feeling -- was I sad, what did I think about, was my family being supportive and was there anything he could do for them, what were my fears, what made me cry, what made me laugh, what was important to ME, not as a case # but a fellow human being.
Since then, I've found that bedside manner is the thing missing from the abilities of most doctors now. And not just with me, but my in-laws all have medical issues with many dr's involved and most of them are big ol' DBs!
No Shack -- he's the raddest!
So, when I finally decided that I didn't want to be on so many narcotics --that I didn't like drooling on myself all day and falling asleep in the middle of sentences or having NO memory of anything that happened because I was so loaded and lethargic from all the pain meds -- I found that Dr. Shackelford had left the lien practice he was employed at and opened his own practice, writing RXs for medical marijuana. It's pretty easy to get your red card. I believe that anxiety is an acceptable condition, along with insomnia, chronic pain, depression, cancer, nausea, IBS, migraines, HIV, AIDS.... I mean, it's not hard, it's a cure-all! (Let me just say here, that there are claims from more than one dr that when certain cancer cells - including brain, breast, leukemia, and prostate -- are injected with THC they die.... yes, pot cures cancer. Don't yell at me, your God put it here for our use, and you can use marijuana for just about anything, from medication to making paper, cloth, lotion, food, fuel.... and the big three?
1. TO SERIOUSLY REDUCE THE NATIONAL DEBT, AND
2. ALLOW LAW ENFORCEMENT AND PRISON SYSTEMS TO FOCUS real CRIMINALS (YOU KNOW, LIKE CRACK DEALERS, MURDERERS, RAPISTS AND PEDOPHILES) INSTEAD OF SOMEONE CARRYING AROUND A GRAM OF WEED OR GROWING PLANTS TO HELP CANCER PATIENTS, AND
3. CUT DOWN ON CARTEL-U.S. INVOLVEMENT (ESPECIALLY THE CORRUPT POLITICIANS AND LAW ENFORCEMENT CONSPIRING WITH THE BASTARDS) AND KEEP THEIR GARBAGE OUT OF OUR COUNTRY
and I digress....
my real point of this post is about this amazing doctor. I've dealt with so many asshole, egotistical and uncaring doctors who treat me like a cardboard cutout. So, when I find a doctor that super rad AND has been instrumental in getting me to where I am today, it's a big deal. Then, to lost that doctor is a big deal. But, to find him again and have the opportunity to see him at least once a year? Dr. Shackelford is so good, that my annual 30 minute appointment to catch up becomes more of an inspirational talk than anything. I'm so stoked to have this guy in my corner
For anyone interested in talking to a doctor to see if this treatment is right for you, Dr Shackelford is a real doctor, not just a lazy guy with lots of school and a license too lazy to do anything other than fill out an application and sign their name. A lot of these doctors are legitimate, but for the true patient you need a doctor that is really behind MMJ and it's medical potential, one that is so knowledgable about this area of the medical field that he's consulted many, many people in the MMJ industry, including Montel Williams. If you think that MMJ may help you or someone you know, please, please call Dr Shackelford for true medical assistance and the appropriate knowledge about MMJ for your specific condition. check him out at http://www.amarimed.com/
this is the place to go for any info you are looking for regarding MMJ, and if you are totally against it, don't you dare comment here without researching first. I'm not writing this to promote marijuana by any means. If it didn't help me with: chronic pain, anxiety, PTSD, depression, motivation, headaches, nerve pain, muscle spasms, insomnia, I wouldn't use it. I quit smoking pot in 1994. I started medicating with marijuana, edibles, and concentrates 4 years ago, and went from 17 different daily medications to 5 total. I guess this post serves more than my original purpose. Actually, I don't think I achieved my original goal for this post and it totally turned into some article for NORML, Culture Magazine, or The Rooster. Be what it may, I wasn't looking for a debate but I'm ready if you got one comin'!