My sister's recent foray into the hellish world of prenatal testing has meant that she has come up against something which has bothered me for years - the apparent callousness of some in the medical field.

   I know that doctors and their staff get busy, that they must see a minimum number of patients, that situations occur which mean patients have to wait. <insert discussion of current state of insurance and medical reform here, I suppose>  I also know that some simple consideration could mean the difference between feeling abandoned and bewildered, and feeling informed and empowered. 

   My sister went in for a routine ultrasound. The technician became very quiet - not a good sign - and got the doctor - an even worse one. My sister, who had gone to the appointment alone because, hey, it was just a routine check , was then told that there were some problems. At that point of course her stomach dropped, her mind raced, and the rest became somewhat of a blur. To them, this might be routine. I know they cannot become emotionally invested in their patients, but it would have been nice if someone had taken the time to explain exactly what the results did and did not mean. She found herself on the street with a referral to a specialist and a great many unanswered questions. 

    After a completely sleepless night, she spent the day trying to piece together the exact situation. The medical staff had neglected to measure the baby - an important fact to know when discussing possible developmental problems. By consulting with an ex-sister-in-law who was a doctor, doing some internet snooping, and calling and requesting information, she was finally able to come to a basic understanding of her situation. It might be spina bifida. It might be hydrocephaliac. It might be a number of things, or it has a 30% chance of being absolutely nothing at all. Now knowing a little bit more, she was able to have a rational discussion with her husband. He is from the U.K., and upon hearing that it would be the middle of next week before the specialist could see her was perfectly willing to fly her to the U.K., where he was convinced she could be seen earlier. Wisely, I think, they decided to stay put. Because she doesn't feel totally in the dark she is much calmer. My fear is that the stress itself can't be good for her or the baby - so there's even a medical reason for making sure patients are fully informed and treated as human beings, not just a medical "problem".

   Just about everyone has, I suspect, been caught waiting and waiting for a doctor in a cold examination room. All it would take is a nurse to poke in her head and say the doctor was running late to avoid the anxious feeling produced by simply not knowing.  I know that when I am at a restaurant all the waitstaff has to do is acknowledge me and tell me they will be with me shortly to avoid my becoming irate at waiting. We just want to know that we are not being ignored. 

   After delivering my first child I was by myself in the recovery room. Some resident came in, informed me they thought my daughter had major nerve damage on one side of her face, and then left. There I was, thinking my precious baby had a problem which I didn't understand, no one to ask for information, and no one to comfort me. It turned out that she was fine, but those 15 minutes were torture. 

   I should also interject that there are many in the medical field who are caring, compassionate and tuned into their patients needs. I was fortunate to have a family practitioner who always made you feel as though you were the only patient he had. Alas, he went boutique - he no longer takes insurance, and thus doesn't have the pressure to get patients in and out quickly, or the overhead of having to have an extensive staff to file insurance claims. He's now too expensive for me, and I really miss that feeling of being listened to when I talked to him. Too often things happen so quickly that physician-induced amnesia occurs, and I forget to ask the questions I needed answered until I'm half-way home.

   At least now for the follow-up visits my sister can have her husband with her.  He'll be able to be an advocate for her, and often having two ears to hear what the doctors say means more will be understood. So here's hoping she gets the kind of compassionate care we all deserve.