Would you like to listen for 3.5 minutes to Shania Twain's From This Moment On
The negligence, ignorance, and rudeness of the Radiology Technician who performed a routine mammogram examination on me, has drastically changed my life. The exam was requested by my health care provider in order to maintain my insurance.
I went to the designated Hospital for my first mammogram. I took forty minutes to fill out the paper work. I have never been in that hospital before, therefore the admission clerk had to type in my personal information. She typed in that I had PPO insurance. When I asked if she could correct it to HMO, she got hysterical and said, "The computer system does not allow me to make that change," and walked away. She came back with two ladies, they beat up the keyboard for about 15 minutes and informed me that I should correct it later when I receive an incorrect billing statement. A MRI code was selected instead of a mammogram, and the ladies could not figure out how to change it. I said, "I’ll come back when your computer system works," and started to walk away. The admission clerk by the next desk said that her computer was updated and within a few minutes finished my paperwork.
Then I was sent to the basement to the radiology department. I was told to go to the women’s locker room, strip down from the waist up, leave my clothes in the open locker, put a blue gown on, and go into the waiting room. It was difficult to choose from those worn-out gowns. In the waiting room, five ladies in blue gowns were scratching themselves under their gowns. It seemed like I was sitting and waiting in that decayed gown for a long time. Then the Radiology Technician escorted me to the gloomy mammogram room and instructed me to take the gown off.
The X-ray arm of the mammogram machine reaches about eight feet from the floor. In the middle are adjustable plates with armrests on each side. In a standing position, the patient’s breast should be placed on a small examination plate and gently compressed with the top plate which looks like a clear plastic box. This should flatten the breast so that as much tissue as possible can be X-rayed.
I informed the Radiology Technician performing the exam, that my ribs above my breast were wider than the rest of my ribs and I asked her to readjust the top plate. When she slammed the top plate on top of my rib bone, I requested another readjustment. The Radiology Technician started to argue that I was a cry baby and that I could not take a little discomfort. I requested that she call the supervisor or manager of the radiology department. The Radiology Technician left the room to speak with a supervisor.
When the Radiology Technician returned, she claimed that she had spoken with the supervisor and was told that if I could not deal with a little discomfort, I would be reported to my insurance company for refusing an examination which might result in losing my insurance benefits. The Radiology Technician emphasized that she had years of experience, therefore she knew that a little pressure applied on my rib bone would not hurt the next day.
Not realizing how much damage and pain she would inflict, I allowed the examination to continue. I kept repeating: "You are cracking my bones." the Radiology Technician replied "Shush, you crying baby." The Radiology Technician took two images on each side and said that she would have to check it in the lab, and to wait for her.
When the Radiology Technician returned, she took a marker and drew lines on my rib, telling me that I had suspicious microcalcifications there. Again I said: "That is my rib. You are putting pressure on my ribs. I am sorry that I do not have textbook bone structure."
The Radiology Technician just shoved my rib bones between the plates. She kept adjusting my left arm and feeling my left shoulder. My rib bones were between the top and bottom plate, preventing compression of my breast. The Radiology Technician kept putting more pressure on the bones until you could hear the bones cracking. It was extremely painful. My left rib bones were clamped and crushed between the plates. The Radiology Technician, from behind, pushed my shoulder closer, and a loud cracking sound came out from the side of the clamped rib. The pencil that the Radiology Technician was holding in her mouth got stuck deep in the ball-and-socket joint. I screamed, "You broke my ribs and get that pencil out ." The Radiology Technician dug the pencil deeper into the ball of the shoulder (acromion) joint then snapped it out of the socket before pulling it out. She added more pressure on my ribs then smiled, and said, "Do not breathe and do not worry, I just pulled the pectoral muscle and no one will know."
When the Radiology Technician released my ribs, I massaged my shoulder and pushed my humerus bone back into the socket. I felt a sharp pain across my ribs with every breath I took. The Radiology Technician said that she needed to take a couple of images on the right side. The little light by the desk highlighted the mustache above her top lip. My brain switched to survival mode. I was wondering if it was possible that her mother was artificially inseminated with sperm from Adolph Hitler’s sperm bank. One thing I was positive of, the mammogram machine should not be used to torture women, and the Radiology Technician was not following procedures. I just looked at her victorious smile and said, "You broke my ribs and dislocated my shoulder. You brutally abused me. You look like you really enjoy torturing people." She was shouting that she would report me to my insurance company as I was walking out.
My heart was racing. I could not use the car seat belt because of the unbearable pain. Somehow I managed to drive myself home. I spent over half an hour in the shower, trying to scrub the marker from my breast and relieve the itch from the hospital gown. My ribs and shoulder were swollen even after I put an ice pack on it. I could not sleep because the pain kept me awake. I kept taking showers and putting the ice pack on.
On Saturday, I was going to pick up a newspaper from the floor and felt a sharp pain close to my heart, which made me faint. I had to gasp for air. I lay on the floor for half an hour, forcing myself to take deep breaths. The sharp pain was running through my ribs. The tears were coming from of my eyes. I managed to roll and reach for the telephone and called the doctor. The doctor told me that if I could not breathe because of a broken rib, it was not an emergency. He told me to wait till Monday, then go back to the same hospital, the same radiology department and ask for a rib x-ray. I was in tears. I did not know if a broken rib was pushing on my heart or if my lungs were punctured.
I had plans to go out for lunch with my friend and I canceled. She came over and started to cry when I showed her my swollen shoulder and ribs. For lunch we ordered Chinese food. After we ate, we watched a movie, then I was drowsy and took a nap. After my nap, I took some ginger tea and roasted soybeans, because Tylenol, aspirin and prescription drugs upset my stomach. Then I put the arnica cream on the swollen ribs and shoulder. I still could not sleep. When I turned on my right side, I felt a sharp pain through my ribs. When I lay on my back, the muscles around my shoulder twitched. I could not take a deep breath because of the excruciating pain.
On Sunday, I canceled racquetball. I enjoy racquetball as a stress reducing sport. It became my Sunday ritual to play for about one and a half hours, then swim to cool off. Instead, I took a slow walk with my neighbor, hoping that fresh air would exhaust me so I could sleep, however I still could not lie in bed for too long.
On Monday, I was extremely tired, my heart was racing and I was afraid to stay alone, therefore I went to work. As soon as I took my coat off, my coworker told me that my left shoulder pad needed adjustment and told me that I looked as if I did not sleep. I was not wearing shoulder pads, it was my dislocated shoulder. I explained how my mammogram examination was performed. I was amazed how fast the news traveled around. Several employees showed me a big note in their wallet: "In the case of emergency, do not take me to That Hospital!" I heard several outrageous stories of how someone they love was killed by negligence in that hospital. A lady in the ladies washroom showed me bruises on her breast from the mammogram machine.
My lifestyle has been drastically altered since my so called routine examination. My fourteen year career with an information technology services company has been destroyed. Only time will tell if my body will fully recover from this brutal abuse by a health care provider performing a routine exam that is so highly recommended by insurance companies. It has become extremely difficult for me to trust any of the health care providers.
