Medicare doesn’t cover everything.
It can’t. There are new things being thought up all the time. Some are legitimate and some are scams. There are tons of quack medicine videos and supplements and stuff on line.
But there is also a matter of personnel and resources. Sometimes we do not have enough. Then we have to do the best we can with what we have.
There is a particularly difficult case from my second year of rural Family Medicine with Obstetrics. Things went right but just barely. This is from memory and over 25 years ago, in the 1990s, so I can’t violate hipaa because I can’t remember names from then. Mostly.
I had a pregnant woman whose pregnancy had gotten complicated. Her ultrasound showed an abnormal placenta. Very rarely, the placenta can grow into the uterus too far, and form a placenta increta. Even more rarely it can grow THROUGH the wall of the uterus and into another body part. That is called a placenta percreta.
In this case we thought that the placenta had grown into the bladder. We were not certain. The obstetricians were aware. Our patient was aware. A cesarean section was planned for when the fetus was mature.
Then she developed a second pregnancy complication. Preeclampsia. This is a complication where blood pressure rises, there is protein in the urine and many things can go wrong. It can progress to eclampsia, which means seizures. This is Very Bad, which means the mother and fetus can die.
She developed HELLP syndrome. This is an acronym. The P is what I worried about, platelets. Platelets help your blood clot. Her platelet count was dropping out of sight. We were rural, 180 miles from the nearest high risk obstetrician. We did have blood for transfusion but NO PLATELETS.
The treatment for preeclampsia with HELLP syndrome is to deliver the baby. I called our obstetrician the minute I got the lab result. “No platelets — can I fly her out?”
“YES! FLY HER OUT!”
Transfer to a bigger hospital with facilities for a premature infant and with platelets, because she needs a cesearean section and she could need a hysterectomy if that darn placenta has grown through. Messy.
Problem number three: weather. We are in Alamosa, Colorado, at 7500 feet, which is the valley floor. We are surrounded by 14,000 foot peaks with passes in four directions. That nearest hospital with platelets is 180 miles and over a 10,000 foot pass and it is snowing.
I call Denver first. 250 miles. Fixed wing life flight. Nope, the weather is too bad to the east and north.
I call Albuquerque. 250 miles. Nope, the pass is socked in, the plane can’t get through.
I call Grand Junction. About the same distance. They say “WHERE are you?” I’ve never tried to send anyone there before. They demur and I cajole and beg. “Okay, okay!” The high risk obstetrics doctor can’t be looking forward to meeting this patient, but they accept.
From the start of calling to the arrival of a plane and crew usually takes about four hours. I want to chew my nails.At last I hug my patient goodbye and they go.
I get the call about 6 hours later. Delivered and they did have to do a hysterectomy, but mother and baby are fine. Her bladder was untouched. They had platelets.
Whew! I was so happy, and mom and baby too. Let’s give credit to my patient too: she got prenatal care. She paid attention. She knew she was high risk. I had told her to come in if anything changed and she did, so we caught the preeclampsia on time.
But it could have gone wrong in all sorts of ways. We were both careful and we were lucky. If the storm had been over Alamosa we would have done the best we could then, too, but it could have turned out quite differently. And thanks to the high risk obstetrics doctors who accept complex patients that they have never seen from rural doctors like me!
Blessings. Blessings on all the nurses and doctors and midlevels and hospital housecleaners and security and lab workers and the Life Flight personnel and First Responders and everyone who has worked and worked and worked through the pandemic.
________________________________________
I took the photograph in Maryland in December: abstract and complicated water, ice and reflections.
You must be logged in to post a comment.