Fleeced While Under

 

images This is the second time I’m writing this after first publishing by accident before deleting it by mistake into the ethers.  Just proves how undone the whole event has left me.

I had a nerve biopsy on Wednesday convinced the doctor who orders the most tests wins a car.  Remember when I said, Mount Sinai Hospital was a noble institution?  I’m taking it back.  One would be safer at Sing Sing.

My procedure is initially scheduled for 10 am…then noon pushed till 2…at 4:10 I’m finally crawling into the OR.  Why crawling?  I’m starving not to mention dehydrated as an eel.  You can’t eat if you’re having anesthesia and do these people care, as they’re all munching lunch at their desks?  NO, THEY DON’T.  It’s like a fucking assembly line, the insurance companies getting richer, while you’re ready to faint scared out of your wits.

After filling out my…in case you die on the table…forms, what looks like a watch is attached to my wrist to know my whereabouts at all times.  Last time I saw one of these was on Sopranos when Uncle Junior was under house arrest.  Before that, you’re given a beeper because the waiting room is the size of Shea Stadium so even with perfect hearing, you’ll never hear your name.  I love the little note etched across the front…

FAILURE TO RETURN THIS DEVICE RESULTS IN ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS BILLED TO YOUR ACCOUNT.  I have two words for whoever wrote that….

FUCK YOU.

I’m then ushered into a little cell told to take everything off including my undies which I really only wore to be polite, donning a pastel johnny coat even too bright for Liberace.

A little Asian man comes in to ask me the same questions as the woman who relinquished all responsibility in case I expire during surgery.

Were they trick questions?  No, I’ve never had any organs removed, not even an EMENEE from my den thank you very much.

He then gives me socks and disposable cotton underwear, boxers no less, Miss Piggy would swim in.  images-1 “Um, these are a trifle big,” I said to him as he scribbles away.  “Soddee, all I have.”

Then, being over 60, a little guy named Juan comes to give me an EKG.  I show him my Hindenburg underwear asking him if he knows a hippo who could use them.  He tries not to laugh, but happily can’t help himself.

My pal Ed, who’s picking me up, comes flying into the room escorted by a lady who looks like Dinah Shore.  Was I happy to see him.  Him and his iPad then head to Shea, I mean reception, to patiently wait and read.

I’m then told I can bring nothing onto the operating floor given a huge plastic bag to store my things.  Why I don’t give Ed my purse will remain a mystery blaming it on hunger and overall fear.  The little Indian girl who comes to get me makes it a point of showing me she’s sealing it.  Think Vanna White in plastic not a wheel.  As we leave, she tosses it on the floor in the corridor.  Now, even in my weakened state, I know, this just isn’t right, but anxiety trumps suspicion and off we go.

The surgeon is there smiling with her cell twitching in her hand.  Tweeting are you Doctor, I’d like to give you a good smack?

I meet my nurse who is so nasty to me…an old Irish woman who’s clearly taken one too many temperatures, finally making me say, “I truly do not appreciate how you’re speaking to me.”

The anesthesiologist pats my hand and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Uh-oh

You mean like an old cat who’s about to meow her last?

Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?

While they slice open my ankle like a kumquat, someone goes into my SEALED bag stealing my phone and Bluetooth device I need in order to speak on it, a very expensive gadget I might add.  Had just finished paying for it two weeks ago.

I thought just the phone was missing blaming myself of course.  Hearing loss sadly comes with loss of belongings since if something drops, you don’t always hear it.  Just the day before I lost sunglasses at the main library.

Ed, who comes into recovery with Starbucks, equal to a Saint Bernard on a sled with brandy, conducts a massive search.

Nothing.

In a post drugged haze me on crutches accompanied by tears, we go to AT&T to get another phone.  Let me just say, this is when you know who your friends are because Ed never leaves my side even when I tell him to.

When I reach for the Bluetooth to program it to the new phone, it was only then I realize I’ve been fleeced…pillaged, looted and plundered by Mount Sinai Hospital totally seeing it as an in-side job.  Theif-of-Theives-Minimates

I go to their security department who’s aloof at best determined to get some kind of compensation.  May have to take the fuckers to Small Claims Court, and I will too.

As the day from hell FINALLY concludes, Ed says…let’s go to Farinelli, my favorite pizza place, and have a slice.

Like I said, you always know who your true friends are especially when they come with basil and cheese.

Would like to thank my pal Amy who through the whole ordeal kept emailing…take notes.

SB

 

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About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in animals, Health, humor, money, New York City, women, words and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

33 Responses to Fleeced While Under

  1. micklively says:

    You’d think it would be in their best interests to provide lockers. They need a black belt to sort their processes: definitely NOT very customer focused. It’s good to hear your friends stepped up to the plate.

    Like

  2. We all need an Ed in our lives. Calm as a cucumber with the sense to know pizza cures all worries and clears minds.
    As for that fucking hell hole …. get even!

    Like

    • I will. Just wasn’t up for it last week, the whole affair leaving me more than a little flattened. But she will rise from the ashes and will they be sorry. Thanks Top.

      Liked by 1 person

      • I was thinking about your experience on the assembly line of medical care and it made me think of something an old time doctor told me one day. When he started practicing in a Catholic Hospital in a suburb of Philadelphia the hospital was run by nuns from Germany (scary I know) but they ran that show with care & love. Farming the food and cooking it themselves for the patients! Are you ready? It was served on REAL dishes. How nice would that be?

        Like

      • I’d like a real dish, and my Bluetooth back.

        Like

  3. skinnyuz2b says:

    The two hospitals I’ve been in had little lockers. There should be some sort of video surveillance of the hallway. Sue their butts off!
    And there is nothing like a great friend.

    Like

  4. Rubenstein, Hal says:

    Good story for the NY Post ! Trust no one in any institution !
    Let me know what the hospital says, they are totally responsible.
    Best,
    Hal

    Hal Rubenstein
    First Vice President
    Portfolio Management Director

    Morgan Stanley Wealth Management
    One Fawcett Place, 3rd FL
    Greenwich, CT 06830
    Direct: 203-625-4851
    Toll Free: 800-243-5977
    Fax: 203-661-4280
    hal.rubenstein@morganstanley.com

    Confidentiality Notice: The information contained in this e-mail and any attachments may be legally privileged and confidential. If you are not an intended recipient, you are hereby notified that any dissemination, distribution, or copying of this e-mail is strictly prohibited. If you have received this e-mail in error, please notify the sender and permanently delete the e-mail and any attachments immediately. You should not retain, copy or use this e-mail or any attachment for any purpose, nor disclose all or any part of the contents to any other person.

    Like

  5. AZMike says:

    I would like to second that hospitals are a mother f…..r but I am two or ten millenia late.

    I went looking for the hippocratic oath because I was sure it contained the “first do no harm” quote, but I discovered that there are many oaths. Notably you can’t expect an institution that doesn’t respect the life of an unborn baby to worry too much about your treatment let alone anything you bring along to “the slaughter house”.

    I can’t help but think you need a great naturopathic doctor, maybe a diet change, sugars encourage the feeding of all sorts of “bad stuff”. (Says the guy that weighs four times as much as you.) Sergei Boutenko did a youtube video on how “green smoothies” he administered to a control group of athletic types. Runners amoung them, a before and after blood test of a two week daily dose of the greens, notable results, one being a reduction in inflammation.

    Like

  6. Lynn says:

    This is ridiculous Susannah! How can a hospital expect you to leave your valuables out in the open for anyone to help themselves to?

    Like

  7. AF says:

    Again, so sorry you went through this. The power of social media and blogs are great. Mount Sinai NYC’s security can either make things right, which you can write about, or not, which you wrote about. Not a threat, just the way it is. No more silencing the consumer.

    Like

  8. Elle Knowles says:

    If they can charge you for an unreturned beeper you have every right to charge them for an unreturned cell phone and blue tooth! Be sure to get cards printed up for your next go-around. Hopefully you won’t need to be at that place again! On Andrews phone – I only have him to blame! 😞

    Liked by 1 person

  9. That’s absolutely terrible, Susannah. So sorry to hear about it. Leaving a patient’s belongings on the floor of the corridor is negligence, plain and simple. Even if you were in a small town like this it would be, let along a big city hospital. Human indifference makes me sick, especially in the medical profession.

    Like

  10. I think, there may be blood! Susannah, you have to be Irish. My dad used to say, “if it weren’t for bad luck, we’d have no luck at all!” Not to mention, no phone. And saying I’m sorry this happened to you, would be like Mt. Sinai saying it to you. I mean… saying sorry is not saying; we’ll replace it and at our cost. They might try replacing the misery they caused you, with a little (make that a lot) better medical professionalism.

    Like

  11. I can’t believe they tossed it on the floor! I know they say not to take valuables but most people take phones because they may need to contact a ride. Go get ’em girl! (when you are up to it) In the meantime keep us posted on the outcome of your tests.

    Like

  12. You just can’t make stuff this good up, can you? I understand completely…been there, done that, but the T-shirt’s gone – stolen…

    Like

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