Adventures in Medical Malpractice

For those of you who have been following my "tweets" you'll have noticed a few panicky references to my Mom recently. She was diagnosed with stage 4 metastasized breast cancer in November 2006. Remarkably, and with a blatant disregard for logic and convention, she's still alive and living a relatively normal life despite more broken ribs than a rugby player and tumors in most of her major organs.

I wish I could say her amazing situation is a credit to the medical profession but I can't. In fact, it seems the medical profession has made it their mission to bring her down. Her family doctor ignored her complaints about shortness of breath and other symptoms for over a year despite knowing she is a breast cancer survivor and anything but a complainer. When the misogynistic bastard finally did get around to testing her blood, it was too late to cure the advanced progression of the cancer which had spread to her bones, lungs, liver and pancreas.

I must admit she has been receiving wonderful care since then, both from her new local doctors and her oncologist and the nurses at Sunnybrook Hospital. However the tale of medical mistakes isn't over yet.

Just over a week ago, Mom was kitted out with a fancy new morphine pump which replaced some of her oral morphine medications. Sadly, whoever programmed the pump misinterpreted the dosage and the pump was administering about twice the morphine it was supposed to. My Mom is already taking enough morphine to kill the average person, so this overage sent her into a pretty dramatic and rapid downhill slide that ended up with her being admitted to hospital on Friday night completely unable to walk or even sit up on her own. She was vomiting almost continuously and practically incoherent--I know, I tried talking to her on the phone.

At this point we had no idea what the problem was, only that she was desperately ill and getting worse. She spent Saturday in an ambulance going to and from a larger hospital over an hour away for an MRI and CT scan that could possibly confirm our worst fear--that cord compression was finally taking place and this was the beginning of a very painful end to her struggle with cancer. Sunday she drifted in and out of consciousness most of the day while we anxiously waited for answers.

Finally, early Monday it was discovered that her morphine dose was way too high and they started scaling it back. Immediately she began to improve, even managing to walk the hospital hallway on her own and taking a shower for the first time in days. By the time I talked to her at 9pm she was tired but lucid and looking forward to what would hopefully be her first decent night's sleep in almost a week--the high levels of morphine had turned her dreams into terrifying nightmares.

We still don't know who's responsible for the error in the dosage--we'll likely never know. We're also still waiting to hear the results of the CT scan, but my whole family is relieved beyond measure that she's steadily improving and seemingly back on track to keeping her status as a bona fide miracle.

Your Shot Slide Puzzle

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

Sorry for the nearly week-long absence from posting. This past week has been beyond ridiculously busy at work due to the annual Hell generally referred to 'round these parts as Peak RRSP Season. This is the week where agents who sell our products forget everything they know about both what they're selling and how to correctly process said sale. This is also the week when eager (and by "eager" I mean "annoying") clients call in to ask why they haven't received their tax slips yet.

Don't get me wrong--I enjoy my job in customer service, but sometimes you have to wonder at the idiocy of people. Usually I have the patience of a saint, but this time of year it's hard to keep the "inside voice" inside so I've decided to dedicate this post to all the stupid people I've had the pleasure of helping this week.

Episode 1

What I wanted to say:

"You want an exception to process paperwork that was not only filled out incorrectly but was also the wrong form to begin with? If you can't tell the difference between a guaranteed interest contract and a guaranteed investment fund, you don't deserve to sell out product."

What I really said:

"I'll send this off to my exceptions team and see what I can do for you. Anything else I can help you with today? Thanks for calling."

Episode 2

What I wanted to say:

"Your client wrote a cheque to 'Manual Life' while you watched! What the Hell is 'Manual Life?' The name of the company is derived from 'Manufacturer's' and 'Life', not 'Manualfacturer's' and 'Life!' Do you know what you get if you Google 'manual life?' It's not pretty!"

What I really said:

"Yes, many people make this mistake (that's sadly true) but unfortunately the bank won't accept this cheque. I'm sorry but you'll have to go back to the client for a new one."

Episode 3

What I wanted to say:

"No, actually--I'm not going to wait while you finish your call on your other phone. Next time wait until you're done before you call our customer service centre."

What I really said:

"Certainly, I can wait. Take your time."

Episode 4

What I wanted to say:

"We mailed your fucking tax slip out today. Last time I checked February has 28 days this year which means we're within the deadline. Now quit your bitching and go back to spying on your neighbours."

What I really said:

"The last of the tax slips were mailed out today as per CRA regulations. You should get it by the end of next week.

Thanks for calling, and have a great day."

And The Winner Is...

...not me, I'm afraid. I didn't make it into the finals for "Flannagan's Idol."

It wasn't a complete waste of a night though--friends came from near and far to lend their support and cheer me on and for that I am extremely grateful. I had a fun time and I'm pretty proud of my performances, technical glitches and all.

Thanks to everyone who came out tonight. And hey--there's always next year!

I'm Really Psyched About Singing Tomorrow Night!

And by "psyched" I mean "scared shitless!"

I really hope I don't embarrass myself horribly in front of all my strangely loyal friends who are coming out to witness the spectacle. Even if I'm really bad, can you please lie to me and tell me I was great anyway? A little self-delusion never killed anyone and it's not like it's Canadian Idol or anything.

I'm thrilled My Honey came all this way just to see me sing, but it adds a bit of pressure, you know? Like I need to be good so I don't embarrass him! I don't want him to be all like, "I spent the equivalent of the gross national product of Nigeria to come see you sing and you sucked!" But he would never say that. Frankly, I don't even think he would think it, but these are the thoughts that run through my head.

But then my enormous ego kicks in and I realize that no matter how sucky I am, y'all will lie to me and tell me I'm great 'cause that's what I'd do for you. You think ;)

Breakfast With a Hottie, But Not the Original Hottie...

I had an absolutely delightful breakfast with Mindy this morning who is arguably an even hotter hottie than the hottie who dumped me last night 'cause she's coming down with a cold or something--the first hottie, Stephanie, not the second hottie, Mindy. Although if Steph has a cold, she might have a fever which would make her literally hotter than Mindy. But not necessarily figuratively hotter. What I'm trying to say is Mindy is a fine lookin' woman and I'm proud of the fact she was my Valentine's Day breakfast date. Sadly she's happily married, so I don't think I have a chance.

Anyway, as one of only 2 people who commented on my First Anniversary Blog Post, Mindy has qualified for the promised "blog candy." She and Sarah (the only other person who commented) are both truly special and since I'm terrible at flipping coins I have decided they will both benefit from my generosity. So what do they win? Since the three of us don't get together enough I thought it might be nice if we three went out for the ubiquitous "Girl's Night" at one of my favourite hangouts, Martini's. My treat, of course! There we will sample from a staggering selection of martini's while we nosh on fabulous appetizers and mains. And maybe there will be a surprise or two as well...

Now aren't you all kicking yourselves for not commenting?

Well, Now I Won't Enjoy It

Excerpt from my Gmail chat with my Honey tonight:

Honey: So what's new?

me: i have a breakfast date with my friend stephanie on saturday

Honey: This Saturday or next Saturday?

me: this saturday

valentine's day

we're going for french toast at symposium

and kiki and i are going shopping for underwear on sunday

do i have an exciting life or what?

Honey: More exciting than mine.

Let's recap: Kendall: breakfast with a hotty on Saturday, shopping for underwear with another hotty on Sunday, probably great dinner with friends Sunday night. Me: Saturday get yelled at by pre-pubescent assholes online, Sunday more of the same, Sunday night finally break down and eat more shitty McDonalds food in an orgy of self-loathing

I'd say you win...

me: well when you put it that way...