Anyone who still follows my posts may have noticed that I haven't been writing much lately despite the wealth of topics so generously provided by the Obama administration and the clown posse which style themselves as patriots in pretending to be his opposition. The reason is that I myself have become ensnared within one of these topics.
I can now attest through direct personal experience that the much-touted "best health care system in the world" is anything but. In fact, I have to wonder if being rated 37th internationally (just above Slovenia) isn't being a bit generous. I can tell maybe a bit more than most just how broken our health care system is as I have been around hospitals all my life. My mother is an RN, and several of my siblings and in-laws are as well. I can remember when the ER wasn't the dumping ground for excessive numbers of uninsured poor people, whether citizens or not, and I can remember when the health of the patient mattered most, even more than the profit line. Not so much anymore! Americans now "enjoy" not the best health care, but the most expensive.
My Gullible's Travels through the best health care system in the world began recently with a chemical exposure at work aggravating a hidden medical condition I have, making me appear as if I were having a myocardial infarction. The paramedics thought so based on the EKG they took while on the way to the ER, and the doctors began to treat me accordingly once I arrived.
I can't say how much this relates specifically to my case, but the medical staff was mostly foreign-trained. The doctors were from China and India, and it seemed to me that they weren't sure, even with repeated testing, exactly what they were treating. It was "let's try this and see what happens!" Every two hours around the clock they would come for more blood and check their results. But after taking enough blood out of me to satisfy Dick Cheney's thirst, the lab tests and chest X-ray didn't show any coronary distress. A later angiogram confirmed that this was no heart attack. But in the treatment process, I had something like 17 different drugs running around in my system interacting with one another simultaneously. I was a wreck!
Possibly in order to cover themselves, they kept me in the ICU while I came down from the monster Mickey Finn cocktail they dosed me with. While there, I learned a few things. The nurses were generally foreigners in the wards, except for those in the ICU. These ICU nurses tended to be domestic, but were subject to involuntary part-time employment depending on the patient load. They were discussing among themselves when not attending to me (the only patient in the ward) whether continuing to work as nurses was economically feasible if people were increasingly unable to afford their services. They were understandably upset when it looked like I wasn't going to be staying in the ICU with more than half of their 12-hour shift remaining, yes, 12 hour shifts, and not any of it on overtime, for if I left whey would be sent home early and be unpaid for the balance. They don't ever know if they are working two days in a row, yet I had to wait at least two hours in the ER, waiting for the called-in staff to arrive and prepare my room! It's a good thing I wasn't in serious danger of becoming deceased.