When the Certified Letter Comes I'm Going to Stamp Deceased on it and Return It

I did something stupid for which I am positive there are going to be repercussions. I knew I shouldn’t while I was in the middle of dialing. My heart was racing and that’s usually when I know. Wait. Don’t act now. I’m very familiar with this warning signal, and yet this time I couldn’t stop myself.

Dear Self, please try not to tell off people at doctors’ offices. It never ends well. Especially don’t tell someone off on their voicemail. Look what happened to Tiger Woods when he left a message on his little-chickie-on-the-side’s voicemail. I heard about it from Katie Couric. These things have a way of circulating.

My husband went to the doctor for something minor. Maybe a physical. He came out with nerve damage in his right arm. He’s right handed. He needs his arm to work, and get dressed, and everything else you can imagine needing your right arm for on my honey-do list. He would have appreciated being able to tie our son’s shoes this morning without it hurting like a son of an explicative.

He is cranky and afraid that this is never going to go away. I am afraid he is right. I am looking down the tunnel of the rest of our lives hoping he’s not right. He has an appointment with a neurologist tomorrow. Hopefully the guy will give him some magic cure. But, oh me of little faith. Ten bucks says he puts him on some three-month prescription that is going to have some unpleasant side effects, like turn him into the blueberry girl on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a girl. But I just have a feeling that the side effects might be worse than, and prolong, the nerve pain.

This morning after I heard my husband yell in pain because he fully extended his arm while putting on his coat — a yell that made the pictures on the wall shake, dead leaves fall from houseplants, and the bird nest in the chimney break loose and roll onto the living room rug where the dog got it and ran around the house with her exciting gift from the sky, like in The Gods Must be Crazy — I’m assuming it wasn’t just a little twinge of nerve pain. I decided I would transfer the frustration back to the source. It’s my little housewifey way of putting things back where they belong.

I called the doctor’s office, waited for the machine to send me to the lab, and said, I don’t know which lab guy took my husband’s blood but you hit a nerve and he has been in pain every minute since. And now it is hitting my nerve. He has been very difficult to live with lately. We think of you every day. And I just wanted to say thank you so much. Have a great day. Love ya!

I hope all that sarcasm isn’t going to clog my pores. I was dripping with it and I didn’t shower right away afterward. Note to self: Exfoliate later.

Do you think it will take one, two, three, or four days before the certified letter arrives stating that we’ve been released from their practice?

I’ll return a certified letter that says, you are released from our business. You screwed up. I can’t speak for all of mankind. There might be people out there hoping for an injury at a doctor’s office so that they can sue and go on disability. But, I will stick my neck out here and say that I believe most people prefer to acquire bodily injuries from doing something stupid not from going to a healthcare practitioner.

When I look down that tunnel of our future, I can see my husband all depressed and sitting in a bar on a rainy Saturday afternoon. Down the bar a few stools will be some regular with a beer gut, a carton of cigarettes, a pitcher of beer, a bag of pork rinds, and a cane that he still uses while he’s recovering from a heart attack. He will ask my husband what brings him there. And my husband will say, “Doing something stupid.” And the two comrades will clink their beers.

I think what my husband was imagining was that he’d still have a few good decades of health and pain-free activity ahead of him. That maybe, not until he was done with his body in his 90’s, a genetic condition would get the best of him. Not this.

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28 comments to When the Certified Letter Comes I’ll Stamp Deceased on it and Return It

  • Tawni

    Oh no. I am so sorry to hear this, Amy. My ex-husband once slept on an arm funny and woke up with nerve damage that rendered his right arm useless for a few weeks. The doctors said it was nerve damage. The good news is that it *did* heal and go away, and I hope that makes you feel hopeful to hear. I’m sending healing thoughts in your hubby’s direction. xoxo.

  • Damn. That doesn’t sound like any fun at all. I hope it heals spontaneously and quickly.

  • I am respectful of good phlebotomists…after a period of regular blood withdrawal, when someone covering on a Saturday poked and prodded and left me with a full-blown hematoma that covered the entire length of my arm…and it was in the summer…and I wasn’t interested in sharing my reason for the blood withdrawing with everyone who asked why my arm was purple. I hope your husband’s pain goes away pronto.

  • Amy I so hope that he starts to feel better that sounds awful! I am alwasy so afraid someone will F up when they draw blood. The last time they had a student nurse in there I flat out refused to let him try me out for a spin. I felt bad because I think I hurt his feelings but whatever. I think you might want to see what recourse you have if he is not okay. It sounds very serious!

    Still, you are one funny lady. And as you know…I appreciate humour in the midst of pain and fear.

    • amy

      I know. I hold my breath when I read your blogs about this pregnancy. I want everything to be okay with you and your baby. No more scares.

  • Ani

    I’ve had that happen much more than I care to remember. It eventually did go away, although I don’t remember the time frame now as it seem so long ago. Although I will say I can still remember the pain when I think about it, and my heart does a little shock and shudder. Here’s the thing if the letter comes sign for it. Don’t feel bad and don’t second guess your instincts. Then find some one who has the sense to have their blood taken by their staff before they take some one elses. Not all phlebotomists are created equal. Not all veins are either. However, he can ask for a butterfly next time where ever he goes.

  • Call a lawyer! Quick!

  • AMy you so crack me up you crazy beotch! LOL… funny thing I worked for a doctor’s office for 8 years so I am totally laughing right now… omg I am a certified phlebotomist too. Yep those nerves are all over the place. POOR thing.

    I would get people screaming at me all day long. OUR patients are geriatric patients and oh boy do they get pissed off for everything and anything. THEN some forget they called and call again yelling. I would be like I know George you called yesterday I got fixed for ya my man. Glad you called couldn’t go through the day without hearing your voice big guy ! LOL….

    or when they would yell all pissed off not at me because EVERYONE loves me LOL, if they were all crazy and shyt this lady was a daughter of a patient screaming all crazy and high pitch like a freakn chihuahua being killed by a rott weiler or something and I was like oh HELL……I would be like I am sorry mam I can’t hear you. They would yell and I would be like again I am so sorry if must be my phone. Can you repeat that.. lol again the screaming I would be like I am so sorry you will need to call me I apologize. then they would call back all calm cuz theywere tired of repeating themselves.

    You have to have humor working in the medical field….or you will die of stress…

    I doubt you will get a dismissal. We rarely dismissed anyone because one day they would be telling you to go to hell and then the other day Blessing you! LOL

    later,
    G

  • So sorry for your husband. I totally sympathize with this whole entry. However, all-in-all, I love your blog. Thanks for letting me into your world.

    • Thanks for letting me into YOURS! I can’t believe your trip to the post office is 30 miles upriver!! And that you’re so remote there are no roads, so no need for a car!!
      You have the most interesting About Me!!!

  • First I have to say, I just discovered your blog yesterday and I love the way you write. You take bad situations and give them a humorous spin. That’s a gift.

    Secondly, I think there is a growing trend of phlebotomist(certified blood extractors) that should never have been allowed near a needle. I have heard many horror stories, and having tiny, rolling veins myself there are few he are allowed to take my blood or anything like that. I once had an iv incorrectly attached and dye shot up my arm which paralyaed it for about a week. Why do they think, “Oops, my bad” covers it. People have enough doctor phobias.

    • amy

      Add to that I have a bias going into it that there is a real art to diagnosis and unfortunately you can have MD after your name and be no where near practicing the art of medicine. They spend so much time learning. It’s a shame they don’t have the right material.

  • Leslie

    Amy, Gosh, what in the world did this guy do to get blood? I’ve never heard of this kind of problem from a blood draw. Hmm, just thinking here. You could become millionaires overnight! Not a bad thing. Just kidding.

  • Amy, I know the underlying premise for this article is not something to laugh about, but when you are funny you can be very funny. I’ll pass this one on to my wife to read.

    Meanwhile, I do believe that most professional service providers try their best to be reasonable and helpful. Be aggressive, and be unrelenting, but dignified and calm, and you will probably get satisfactory results in your efforts to resolve this difficulty. I wish your husband (and you) all the best.

  • XUP

    One good thing about the Canadian Health care system is that you can abuse your doctor all you want and he can’t kick you out of his practice. That’s crazy about the damage to your husband’s arm though. I’d be kicking some butt, too.

  • First of all, I worked for doctors for 15 years, and what you said could have been a whole lot worse, so forget about it. If they call you, apologize profusely and say that your husband should come in and see the doctor immediately, be nice but don’t apologize. Just explain that you’re very worried about your husband.

    You should be angry. Call the office directly and say that you want to know who did the blood draw so the doctor can be informed and so this will not happen to anyone else. Then you say you need to get your husband in for a visit right away.

    Say something ominous like, “We need to know if this nerve damage is permanent so we can decide what steps we need to take”–you can probably let “lawsuit” go unsaid, unless they’re very stupid. I know, I know–you’d never actually sue–but the whiff of it will shake them up and get them doing their jobs.

    This is their fault. Just because you got snarky on an answering machine does not take away the fact that they screwed up your husband’s arm.

    By the way, if they did kick you out of their practice without referring you to someone specific, you can sue them for refusing care. (Not that you would–it’s just good to know that a doctor can’t abandon you.)

    Sorry to get all bossy about this. I know it’s none of my business. (But I know how protective I am of my husband–this would enrage me.) So I say, get on the phone with a real person and kick some ass.

    • PS– It’s most likely nothing. Nerves can recover from nicking and bruising quite easily. I can’t imagine that a nerve could have been severed during a blood draw.

      I didn’t mean to make it sound like your husband will be permanently hurt by this. I just got carried away with how I think you should handle the doctor. Don’t feel foolish, no matter what.

    • amy

      He did go in and they said they were going to fire the company they use to draw blood but the same guy is still there.

      • I’m glad they seem to be taking it seriously. Maybe they have to replace the guy first, although that doesn’t sound right. Did they tell him he’s going to be okay?

  • Yikes. I hope that clears up. I personally prefer feeling foolish to having my worst fears realized.