A Patient’s Bill of Rights was first adopted by the American Hospital Association in 1973. It was revised in 1992, and reinforced under the Affordable Care Act in 2010. The very first item usually listed on a hospital’s Patient’s Bill of Rights is some variation of the following:
You have the right to be treated in a dignified and respectful manner and to receive reasonable responses to reasonable requests for service.
This isn’t happening in Alaska’s hospitals, most of them anyway – and it’s probably not happening where you live, either. It continues:
You have the right to give consent to a procedure or treatment and to access the information necessary to provide such consent.
The wording of these rights vary from hospital to hospital, provider to provider, but they’re all cut from the same cloth, and all designed to meet the minimum compliance requirements of state and federal law. But more important than that, they’re designed to ensure proper ethics so everyone is provided with prompt, quality, and informed medical care.
Not that long ago, medical facilities presumed their employees had empathy about the needs of the patients walking through the doors. Caring for the patient in trauma came first, and it was in writing. Bureaucratic boxes got checked later on, after the doctors and nurses had done their jobs. This bureaucratic function was usually administered by a sheepish paper pusher who walked into the exam room shortly before discharge. They were administrator types, not draped in scrubs or wearing badges with impressive sounding credentials dangling around their necks.
That time is long past.
Nowadays those paper pushers are manning the front window, overinflated with a false sense of importance and sitting with loaded animosity cocked and ready to fire at anyone who gets out of line. Their greeting is to slide a cheap, unsterile piece of cloth across the dirty counter before they’ll give you the time of day. Woe to those who refuse to put that mask against their mouth. Perhaps you have reasons for not wearing them, they don’t care. All they know is that they’ve been given a mandate, and if you don’t comply, you’re a problem for them, not a patient.
The mask issue merely scratches the surface of the shameful state of America’s hospitals; the abuse cuts much deeper, as you’ll soon see.
I’m going to tell you a story. Hopefully it will make you question the backward, cowardly ethic of placing our children at risk to protect our old, and whether there is any honor or sense left within the medical community.
December, 30.
2021
Wasilla, AK 16:30 AST
I have eight children. The oldest is 21, the youngest just
turned three. In all those chaotic years we’ve never had a serious injury – no
broken bones, no marbles stuck up the nose – nothing but standard medical care
and the occasional trip to a specialist for something elective. Unfortunately,
that proud record ended a few days before New Year’s when our little guy crashed
his sled.
A rushed trip to Capstone Urgent Care. X-rays. A rushed trip into the “best”
pediatric hospital in the state, Providence Alaska Medical Center. We were
ready to experience some of that high-level care those “heroes” were so lauded
for across 2020.
That’s not what we got.
Providence Alaska Medical Center, Anchorage
19:30 AST
I dropped my wife off at the entrance so she could get the ball rolling and I parked the Suburban with my two sons. The three and six year olds call themselves “best buddies” and are often inseparable. The first security guards of the night wouldn’t let my wife into the ER without a mask. Her mask exemption didn’t matter to them and they made no attempt to find a reasonable accommodation as required under the Americans with Disabilities Act.
I showed up holding our boy a moment later, and since we weren’t there to discuss thirty-year-old federal statutes with rent-a-cops, I blew right past him. My wife and I proceeded to the ER’s plexiglass encased “reception” desk and straight into the first Karen of the night. We’ll call her the Alpha Variant Karen.
Alpha Variant Karen showed a mild interest in the boy with the broken arm but not nearly as much as his parent’s faces. We had no masks and that was all she seemed to care about from that point on. We gave her our standard response. Exemptions. Health reasons. This generated a legal debate about denying care at an emergency room. She went to get a supervisor (or something like that, she didn’t really say) and disappeared.
As the clock ticked my wife and I surveyed the overcrowded ER and jointly decided to take the boy to the nearby Alaska Regional Hospital instead, as our nurse friend had recommended over the phone on the way into town.
Alaska Regional Hospital, Anchorage
20:00 AST
At Alaska Regional Hospital we encountered a young security guard who mentioned masks but seemed to understand the words “exempt” and “medical reasons,” and stayed at his podium as we spoke to the intake nurse. Good for you, Dushon!
The intake nurse, John, probably has some familiarity with this concept too, because he was actually very helpful, kind, and professional. We breathed a sigh of relief to have finally gotten past the nonsense and onto the actual medical care. Let the healing begin. Then, Delta Variant Karen showed up.
[I should interrupt the narrative here to point something out: As with every profession, there are good people who understand their job and perform it well, and there are others who don’t. As we navigated our first surrey through the world of emergency medicine, we encountered plenty of both.]
Delta Variant Karen reluctantly took us to an exam room, gripping the cloth masks we’d rejected in her clenched fist. Vitals good. Delta Karen left. The boy calmly sat in his mom’s arms, watching the fourth Adventure of BusyTown on her slowly draining i-Phone.
After a few minutes, Delta Karen re-entered with an ER doctor and two backup Karens with scared expressions in their eyes. Before the doctor could introduce himself, Delta Karen ignored us and said to him, “We’ve got a mask problem…”
That was a far as she got.
“We don’t have a mask problem,” I said. “We’ve got a broken arm and that’s what we’re going to talk about.”
I was done playing games with scientifically ignorant pretenders and thoroughly uninterested in their credentials. I looked the doctor in the eye, “He’s got a fractured humerus…” and I went on from there.
Folks, the greatest danger facing our nation and our world is not an easily treatable virus with a 99% survivability rate. The greatest danger on earth is the dissolution of reason. Too many people – old and young, eastern and western, professional and layman, white collar and blue collar – have lost the ability to take information and formulate a measured, reasonable response to it.
My dad worked for IBM for twenty-five years. Growing up it seemed we always had little notepads with the word THINK (IBM’s motto) emblazoned on them. Perhaps the message stuck in my impressionable young mind and for that at least I’ll give a hat tip to IBM. I wish more people would THINK today.
Alaska Regional
Hospital
20:30 PST
The doctor dropped the mask issue, conducted his exam, and in walked Tristan, the next security guard. I can only assume Tristan was called in to revisit the “mask issue” by Delta Karen. He also decided to enforce the immoral new policy of only allowing one parent in the room. It’s much easier to browbeat a person when they don’t have counsel or support beside them.
There is no reason for this policy. It’s asinine and further traumatizes families and patients whose presence in these situations are a calming balm much needed and formerly desired by care providers, especially those working with children. My son wanted me there, cried for me when I was gone, blood pressure spiking. My other son wanted to be there for his bro, his best buddy. Shame on the medical establishment for this “one family member” policy. It compounds a hard situation needlessly with additional trauma. The insensitivity of the medical establishment toward the psychological impact of their foolish policies knows no bounds.
After a worthless brain sucking spirited discussion with Tristan about masks and federally recognized exemption case law, it was 20:45. Everything closes in Alaska around 21:00, so I decided my other son and I should get some grub before everything closed on what was shaping up to be a long night. Subway. A free cookie. A dozen texts with family, friends, and church members in the front seat of my Suburban. I tried to explain to my son what his best buddy was going through without him, and why idiots (I called them “silly people” for the sake of my kid, but they’re actually idiots) continue to wear and promote masks in spite of all the science on the topic.
I waited in the ER parking lot, taking rationed sips from my water bottle while pondering how long I could hold my pee before having to go back in and deal with Tristan when my wife texted:
“They’re not even talking about surgery. If not, then we probably should have stayed in the valley.” We live in Wasilla, forty minutes away.
A few minutes later she texted again:
“Just refused the Covid swab for his nose. Pray.”
It appears that if you have a broken arm, you still have to have a Covid swab before they’ll, you know, treat the broken arm. Given that my wife is not accustomed to letting people shove sticks up her already traumatized toddler’s nose, she started asking questions so that she might get some information prior to giving consent.
But you’re not allowed to do that at Alaska Regional Hospital, apparently.
They refused to answer questions, refused to even let her ask them. Then they shut down and treated her in a manner that should make your blood boil. It was going from bad to worse and we still hadn’t encountered the most vicious Karen of the night – the Megatron Variant, a surgeon with broken morality with no business touching children.
In her words:
…the surgeon walked in, loudly said, “You won’t allow a test so I won’t do your surgery. No surgery from me.” And left the room. When I tried to ask him questions he said I was refusing to comply.
Did you see my son’s face, Dr. Caylor, as you loudly spewed your venom at the petite woman holding him? Did you even notice he was there?
She continues:
Then they just left me there with my just-barely-turned-three toddler, bruise blackening.
I waited a while, figured out how to put the bed down so Kav could sleep, and went to the hallway. Isn’t there someone who can answer questions?
What, you actually expect information or rights? Craziness!
A nurse told me I needed to go back to my room. Seriously.
About ten or fifteen minutes later, the staff supervisor came back with a couple of friends, and another in the hall, and security right behind. Would not answer questions, give info, show written policy, nothing. No information at all. Just kept saying I refused to comply with policy, even though they wouldn’t explain or show me that policy. I have video. They called APD on me and threatened to trespass me.
There are several questions we might have asked had Alaska Regional Hospital followed their own Patient’s Rights and Responsibilities declaration.
“Each individual shall be informed of the patient’s rights and responsibilities in advance of administering or discontinuing patient care…To be treated with consideration, respect and recognition of their individuality…To be informed of his/her health status in terms that patient can reasonably be expected to understand, and to participate in the development and the implementation of his/her plan of care and treatment…,”
And a bunch of other stuff they don’t really abide by. You get the idea.
Alaska Regional Hospital, Patients Rights
She asked them about which test they were planning on administering. Is it the PCR test that the CDC now admits cannot differentiate between SARS-CoV-2 and influenza viruses?
Don’t know. The nurse’s response was, “I’m not going to get into that with you right now. I’m not going to discuss that.”
She might have asked some other questions, like:
How will the injury’s treatment, the patient’s status, and parents access change if he were to test Covid positive versus negative?
Don’t know. They wouldn’t let her ask.
Can I see the hospital’s written policy on that?
Can I read the hospital’s declaration of rights, specifically regarding the refusal of tests and medical procedures?
Can I access the hospital’s patient navigator to assist me?
Can the surgeon discuss it with me?
Instead of treating her with respect and answering her questions, they called APD to trespass her out of the building, because, don’t-ya-know, that’s how all the top hospitals treat toddlers with broken arms in the ER when parents dare to ask about the details surrounding the proposed treatments being pushed on them.
It was at this point that we decided we didn’t trust the undistinguished Dr. Caylor or any other person in that hospital to treat our child for anything, much less an invasive and complicated surgery – which they still never even bothered to discuss. Who knows what they would have done to him in that place after so brazenly ignoring every facet of informed consent and parental rights? An isolation ward? Parental separation? A non-consensual long-term admission, or injection?
Alaska, America…you’ve got a problem.
You’ve supplanted common sense and decency for irrational fear and draconian absolutes. You’ve thrown science and logic out the window. You’ve shredded medical integrity and your own credibility. You’ve killed people with your unscientific administration of the wrong drugs and the wrong treatments against patient and patient family demands and let others suffer needlessly by your inability to do two simple things: 1) Follow your own rules, and 2) THINK.
Doctors, think about what you went to medical school for in the first place. Was it to tell anxious mothers holding hurting toddlers to F-off in the middle of the night?
Nurses, think about why you spent all those hours studying, practicing, and laboring. Was it to give snarky ultimatums about seeking care at alternate facilities you know will only waste your patient’s time? (Yes, this happened as well.) Or mocking them in the process? (This happened, too.) Was it to toss all sensitivity out the window the moment someone on the margins lets you know they have unique needs? How proud your parents must be.
Administrators, think about your role in the position assigned to you. Was it to heap condemnation and additional stress on top of already hurting people?
Security guards and law enforcement, think about what you can do to help the people around you. Are you merely there to hand out mass-produced, unsterile pieces of cloth – that even doctors agree do almost nothing to curb the spread of viruses, and actually cause respiratory damage – and send hurting and desperate people out into the night for refusing to put them on? Are you proud of it when you kick a distressed family to the curb? Do you even wonder if they’ll locate more compassionate care elsewhere? Do you give each other high fives and say, “We sure told them”? Do you, Tristan? Do you sleep well on those nights?
Fortunately for us, that’s not the end of the story.
You see, although the medical establishment has acquiesced to collective insanity, there remain a few beacons of common sense and (what appears to be) uncommon virtue shining for those willing to search for them.
We left the People’s Republic of Anchorage and drove the forty minutes back to the Valley and into the third ER of the night, Palmer’s Mat-Su Regional hospital.
I won’t say there were no mask Karens there, but there were people with wisdom and discernment enough to drown them out and let ethics, rather than fear, dictate the terms of service.
Mat-Su Regional honored our mask exemptions (eventually) and provided a reasonable accommodation in the form of a face shield, a technology I suppose they don’t have in Anchorage – either that, or they were more concerned with sticking it to us than helping us.
- They let us be together in the ER.
- They answered our questions about the “swab” and defined it.
- They accepted our family’s refusal.
- They provided a written Patient’s Bill of Rights.
- They performed the surgery with whatever internal Covid protocols are designed for that purpose.
- They let us be together as a family during recovery and would have allowed me to stay the night with my wife and son had I been able (I still had six kids at home who needed Dad back).
- They smiled and were polite for the rest of the experience.
In other words: One hospital did the right thing to help our family. Two hospitals did everything in their power to cause additional harm.
We later found out that none of the three hospitals would have performed surgery that night due to the complexity and requirements of the injury, but only one of the three hospitals cared enough about us to discuss the matter. The others never bothered to get that far. We were a problem, not a patient, and they were happy to rid themselves of us.
Fortunately for Alaska, there are still a few people willing to THINK. For that, we are grateful, but from what I’ve heard from at least one elected official, not all families have fared as well at Mat-Su Regional as we did. I once wrote a post about mask shaming. The Shame Game can go both ways, both for those who refuse them and for those who wear them in certain circles. I’ve tried to see both sides of the issue but I’m past that now. We need to be past the mask/test/vax regimen because the issues surrounding these oppressive policies have only ballooned over time. They’re no longer an inconvenience, they are a threat to the lives, mental health, ethics, freedom, civility, and soul of a community.
We’ve moved beyond basic hygiene and good medicine and into a world where people are thrown to the ground for not covering their faces, a world where parents are forced to watch their scared children be treated from behind ER glass instead of holding their hands, a world where rights are torn up as easily as the paper they’re printed on.
A world where toddlers with broken arms are turned away from hospitals and sent to fend for themselves.
Shame on you, Providence Hospital.
Shame on you, Alaska Regional Hospital.
If you’re the type of person who has, maybe even recently, defended these clear violations of basic healthcare, basic rights, and basic dignity, I have a different message: No shame. Repent, and move forward with that knowledge determined to be a better person moving forward.
We cannot undo the past. But we can correct the system and turn this ship around, and that starts with leadership, something that has been lacking at the highest levels for far too long.
If you are a medical professional, you need to demand change. Read the Patient’s Bill of Rights at your facility and give a copy to every patient you encounter. Listen to them and think about how you can meet their need. If you try, you can always find a yes that will suit them.
Thank you to all of the nurses and doctors at Capstone Urgent Care, Mat-Su Regional Hospital who bolstered our faith that there are people around who still care.
If you are a law enforcement officer, you need to lead. Man up and refuse to administer the dictates of lesser men. If enough of you have the courage to stand up and defend liberty and human rights, all of this ends tomorrow. If you don’t, it will escalate. De-escalation is what you’ve trained for. Your citizens need you to step up and do it now.
If you are an elected official, you need to open up the phone lines and fire up the bullhorn. Gather your constituents and listen to their stories. Hold the perpetrators accountable and put them on record for their failures and crimes. You work for us. Get to work.
If you run a hospital or healthcare facility, it is incumbent on you to ensure that it changes. Read your own bylaws, read your own policies, and regain your honor by doing right by everyone who walks in your doors, not just the ones who agree with the pseudoscientific ramblings of the governor’s idiot advisors.
If your name is Governor Dunleavy, fire Ann Zink…today. You’ve sat on your hands ignoring the needs of Alaskans long enough. Think about the legacy you will leave, and change its trajectory.
And most importantly, to everyone else: Learn your rights and stand on them. Here is a great article that goes into detail about your rights as a patient and as a family member. Don’t let them push you around. Don’t sign anything you haven’t read and understood. If you have questions, demand answers. If your doctor won’t answer, demand another doctor. If your nurses are rude, demand different nurses.
You are the customer and you have rights. Ask to see them. Make the offending staff read them to you out loud. Document everything. Thirty-seven states are known as One-Party Consent states, meaning that you, being one party to the conversation, may record the conversation. Learn the laws of your state and be ready just in case you’re unfortunate enough to find yourself in a similar situation. If you’re headed to the hospital, make sure you have storage on your phone to take video.
The medical establishment in Alaska and elsewhere is counting on your ignorance. Be informed. It’s a shame that we can no longer rely on those in power to care for our best interests. Let us then care for and support each other, and get back to the days, not so long ago, when little boys with broken arms weren’t yelled at by egotistical men who once trained to help them.
Would you like to contact Providence Alaska Medical Center the register a complaint about this or another issue? You can contact them here.
If you’d like to contact Alaska Regional Hospital you can contact them here.
Contact your Alaska state senator or representative and let them know what you think about medical tyranny in your state. They need to hear your stories.
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