Earlier this year my mom was in a terrible care accident. She miraculously survived with multiple fractures. Were this to have happened to most women her age they would have been a pile of bone dust.
In the hospital after the accident they set what bones they could and attached an external fixater on her leg. The staff at the hospital said that in a few weeks they would remove the fixator and surgically install a plate in that leg. The hospital experience was terrible and dangerous. I had to constantly monitor staff to assure they didn’t give my diabetic mom and IV drip with sucrose in it – which happened no less than three times. After a few days my mom was moved to a rehab facility. In transition, the hospital forgot to write a prescription for blood thinners (a standard of care for bed ridden patients) and mistakenly documented her status as weight bearing. She couldn’t even sit up or role over.
About ten days later my mother’s legs were filled with clots. This is extremely dangerous. If a clot breaks free it can cause a stroke or a heart attack. So they dosed her up with a lot of blood thinners, I prayed and made sure the staff at the facility would watch her like a hawk anytime I couldn’t be there.
So the day arrived for the appointment when she was to have the plate placed in her leg. My brother was here visiting from Indonesia, so he rode with my mom in the ambulance while I drove so I would be able to pick my son up from school after the appointment. When the young physician entered the room and asked how we were doing my mother said “great all things considered, just here to get the plate