Self-Service Hospitals

photo by Timothy Spark       

Just had a bone scan at one of our local hospitals the other day. I was there by 9 a.m. (on time) and was done and ready to leave at about 3:30 p.m. They were busy. I waited, and waited, and waited, and then — I was bored out of my mind. After all that waiting, it seemed a simple matter of the technician pressing the right buttons and the machine doing it’s job on it’s own. Interesting….

There was plenty of time for me to think while I waited, especially after I finished my book. I’ve now got a solution for some of the financial costs and delays and crowding within our medical facilities, ‘Self-Service Hospitals’ (SSH). This could increase efficiency and save money for us all. While the idea may sound somewhat revolutionary, it is entirely possible in this age of fantastic medical computer programs.

To begin with, most doctors, interns and nurses could be dismissed; diagnostic testing procedures and pathology laboratories can be eliminated (machines can do it) and cleaning staff can be greatly reduced. What savings!

It should be easy to make your own cast

Don’t worry. With my brilliant idea, hospitals can remain open for business 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The best part is that the only staff necessary are a couple of admissions clerks, who have access to the Internet and the very clever people at Google. Everything else being automated. Just think of it.

Viagra vending machine

Upon admission, a brief clinical history of the patient and the symptoms causing concern are fed into the medical computer. It spits out an immediate diagnosis and the recommended treatment. If medications are required, you place the proper amount of coins into the slot and your prescriptions are dispensed immediately — no need to go to the pharmacy. They are delivered prepackaged via the ‘Automated Pharmaceutical System (APS), and the patient is merrily on the way home with medications and instructions on how to get well.

Need a body part? Purchase it here.

For instance, you arrive at the ‘Self-service hospital’ (SSH) with severe abdominal pain and the diagnosis is appendicitis (APC). The computer recommends an appendectomy, which, in keeping with the facility’s policy, can easily be performed by you. Whenever a surgical procedure is indicated, you deposit the cost in the slot, and out comes a tray with all the necessary instruments and supplies, such as gloves, scalpel, sponges, etc. Need an operating table? Deposit the required coins and out it slides. Need a new body part? Select the proper vending machine.

The best part about this system is that if our politicians still deem more income necessary, automated coin-operated mechanisms can easily be installed to bring in heaps of dough. A wheelchair, for instance, can have a slot for a $2 coin, the elevator can be operated by depositing some money too — depending on how high you wish to go, and a looney can release the lock on the operating room door. Instructions for the surgical procedure pop up on a screen within for $5. Then, since we all like to make our own decisions, we can choose from  the various anesthetics available. Any child can manage it.

A wheelchair can have a slot for a $2 coin

P.S. I think they’d do well not to give me so much time to think up such brilliant ideas the next time I visit a hospital.

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Live and Learn

As time passes, I’ve had to change my mind on many issues — just one of which is wondering why otherwise intelligent people can throw money away on promises of unlikely cures. I didn’t understand, for instance, why people with cancer would pay thousands of dollars to go to some Mexican clinic to be given shots made of apricot pits. Did they really think it would work? Why, I thought, would they be so gullible as to believe charlatans and frauds who offer magical cures for whatever? (Thank goodness delicacy required me to keep my mouth shut on the subject at the time.)
You know I’ve dealt with dizziness, nausea and imbalance for years. Episodes in the past were awful, but less frequent. During the 1990s, they hit with a vengeance and tenacity I was unable to cope with. I, myself, became one of those “gullible” people. I now realize it is not so much gullibility as desperation.

The dizziness was so persistent, I was unable to cope

I, who had flatly refused to take hormones, who questioned and refused just about every prescription any doctor tried to give me, suddenly accepted, bought, payed for, swallowed and did whatever my doctor or anyone else suggested might help. I wanted my life back!
Antivert didn’t help, so I tried SERC, then Dramamine, then, as recommended, I doubled the SERC. I tried a diuretic. I was willing! I was desperate! I was even ready to try inner ear surgery which causes deafness but “might” eliminate the dizziness. (I later did have that surgery, but whatever was causing the dizziness had by then also caused deafness in that ear, so there was nothing to lose.) It too did NOT cure the dizziness.
“We just got a brand new product in for nausea,” suggested my local pharmacist, who no longer had to ask my name. I bought it… It didn’t work.
“Have you tried acupuncture?” inquired a business associate over the phone.
“No, do you know someone?”
I didn’t know her, but I accepted her recommendation anyway.
“How about a holistic practitioner?” someone else proposed.
What’s his number?” I asked.
I was ready to try anything. If someone had promised the dizziness, imbalance and nausea would go away if I stood on my head and spit nickels, I’d have tried that too.

Off-balance, dizzy and suffering with nausea, I would try anything

As you can imagine, I wasn’t doing much cooking and jokingly threatened to turn my kitchen into a bedroom, but the shelves began to look more like a large medicine cabinet, lined with containers full of prescriptions and remedies that didn’t work. I thought I’d have to toss out some dishes just to make more space.
I popped pills, was poked by needles, swallowed vile-tasting, expensive Chinese herbs and solutions as directed, plus I obeyed and consumed nothing but cooked foods. My body had “too much dampness and too little energy”, and there was a heck of a lot of work to be done on my “spirituality”!
Finally, I came to the conclusion that what I definitely didn’t have enough of was — money, to pay for it all — I had become too ill to work.
Being desperate enough to grab at any solution myself, I learned an important lesson and was, once again, humbled. Vestibular disorders don’t kill you, but they can make you wish you were dead. So I now fully understand how others suffering from incurable and possibly life-threatening diseases can succumb to the hope held out by those bastards who prey on our vulnerabilities.
And, I’m still learning…..