S02, Ep. 2: #whatsupdoc🥕 Part 2
In this episode, Mandi encourages listeners to stand up for justice and recognize positive change through her personal story of having her rights violated.
Find Me Online:
Transcript
Mandi: Mandi Frantz here welcoming you to my podcast - Find Your Beautiful: Life Through the Eyes of a Christian Disabled Woman.
Mandi: Mandi Frantz here welcoming you to my podcast - Find Your Beautiful: Life Through the Eyes of a Christian Disabled Woman.
[Upbeat Background Music]
Mandi: Hey Beauties! As promised, I'm back to share more about life through my eyes. As a quick disclaimer, I apologize if the sound quality of this week's episode is off. The equipment I use to record this show died out and I'm hoping to upgrade to something better by next week. Hopefully, you'll still get something out of today's story.
Last week I shared a difficult, but true, story about my first prenatal doctor's visit. It really set the tone for a lot of my negative experiences that were to come. Before I jump into today's story, I want to make important note of the fact that my whole pregnancy journey with the medical community was not bad. In fact, once I found a really great high-risk clinic, I was thoroughly pleased with my OB. She researched and understood my disability and the potential problems it could cause. She got to know me well enough that a change in my color or facial expression had her immediately tending to my needs. She is a doctor I would gladly take a selfie with and use #whatsupdoc🥕 to recognize her inclusive attitude and practice.
Secondly, I want to remind you that this episode is not about my actual physical or emotional pregnancy journey. That will come in next week's episode. Today I'll be sharing another heartbreaking experience with a doctor who should have known better, and who I stood up to in an effort to ensure no one had to go through that experience again. Here's #whatsupdoc part 2.
Last week I shared a difficult, but true, story about my first prenatal doctor's visit. It really set the tone for a lot of my negative experiences that were to come. Before I jump into today's story, I want to make important note of the fact that my whole pregnancy journey with the medical community was not bad. In fact, once I found a really great high-risk clinic, I was thoroughly pleased with my OB. She researched and understood my disability and the potential problems it could cause. She got to know me well enough that a change in my color or facial expression had her immediately tending to my needs. She is a doctor I would gladly take a selfie with and use #whatsupdoc🥕 to recognize her inclusive attitude and practice.
Secondly, I want to remind you that this episode is not about my actual physical or emotional pregnancy journey. That will come in next week's episode. Today I'll be sharing another heartbreaking experience with a doctor who should have known better, and who I stood up to in an effort to ensure no one had to go through that experience again. Here's #whatsupdoc part 2.
[Mandi voices Ad (ads change and will vary)]
[Doorbell Sound Effect]
Mandi: We're fast forwarding from where we were last week. In this story I am 33 weeks pregnant and my Little Bear was sitting on my pelvic bone, causing me a good amount of pain. I went to my wonderful OB who looked at my face, saw that I was pale, and expressed concern for my discomfort. She worked at a clinic that is affiliated with a larger, also well-known hospital, and sent me there to be evaluated. I didn't realize I'd be there for the next three weeks, until my sweet boy was born.
After about a week in the hospital, eating terrible food, having blood drawn daily, getting a blood thinner shot that stung everyday, and hardly getting sleep, I was a wreck. My hormones heightened everything I was feeling and the constant pain of my son pressing on my pelvis was driving me crazy (my hubby would say that's a short drive). The attending doctor would stop in to see me at least once a day and I'd been in the hospital long enough at that point to see several different attendings. The one in today's story also happened to be the head doctor of the entire unit. Sometimes the higher up the career ladder people get, the further away from the ground work they get too. This can make it easy to forget the humanity, the heart, of the work you do. I'm sure you can imagine that forgetting to put people first as a medical professional could have bad consequences.
By my 35th week, I was huge! I could barely move. Breathing was more difficult as my growing boy was outgrowing the space within me. He was pressing up against my chest cavity and his head sat really low in my pelvis. It was predicted that if carried to full-term, he would be 9 pounds! I was begging to be induced at this point. I felt like my body couldn't handle the pregnancy anymore. I knew there were risks to having a baby pre-term, but I also knew there were great risks to me if I continued as well. There was a chance of clotting since I was bedridden and I can't truly describe the pain I felt. I was limited on the medication I could take since I was pregnant and nothing was helping. Pain is a real issue. For my people who have to deal with chronic pain, I truly salute your daily strength. Pain was making me lose my mind.
This doctor I mentioned must have gotten fed up with me. I wasn't nasty to her, but kept asking her to go over the risks of having my baby at 35 weeks. I kept implying that I wanted to know if we could move forward with inducing, particularly because I believed my baby's chances for survival, and being healthy, were pretty high at this point. The doctor decided to call a NICU doctor to speak with me. Here is where things took a bad turn. The doctor stood in the hallway, with my door open, and spoke to the NICU doctor about my case. She called me out by my last name, which is what actually drew my attention to the conversation happening outside. She said I was insisting on having a preemie baby and told the NICU doctor to come in my room and "lay it on thick," essentially meaning the NICU doctor should try to scare the crap out of me by telling me every possible bad thing that could happen.
By the time the NICU doctor came into my room, my husband and I were angry and on high alert. She spoke about pretty much every condition and challenge a preemie baby could face, including ones that were incredibly unlikely at this stage. She also talked about disability like it was the worst fate a child could face. In all fairness, the head doctor didn't tell her I was disabled and I was covered in blankets. I was balling and asked her to leave. I could tell that when she realized we weren't some nut job parents trying to do anything to be rid of the baby within, she felt bad. My tears reached her heart. She apologized and left.
I didn't stand up for myself right away. I honestly didn't know what options were in place to do so, besides screaming at the doctor myself, which I knew was not the ideal. Enter my mom to the rescue again! The next day, my mom came to visit and I told her what happened. She told me every hospital has a Patient Advocacy Department, people who are there to ensure patients have a place to go if they feel their rights are violated or they have a complaint. There were a few issues here that I told my advocate. The first is that my HIPPA rights were violated. If I heard the doctor, who used my name, in the hallways, then it is likely that other patients, visitors, and anyone within the vicinity also heard her. Also, the intimidation tactic the doctor tried to use was not healthy for my mental or emotional well-being. As the head of the department, she needed to be corrected.
Now I'm all about giving credit where it is due. The next day the doctor came in my room. I was nervous honestly. I mean, it was that feeling you get when you're a kid and you snitch on your friends. However, she came in and apologized. She even thanked us for taking the steps we did, saying it's important for doctors to be reminded of best practices and how to treat patients. She acted professionally and really showed me respect. I could see why she made it to her position, she deserved it.
It's important to know your rights and to know how to enforce them. I was scared. I felt like no one would really appreciate what I had to say against this clearly well-respected doctor. I'm glad I was wrong. You don't deserve to be bullied or intimidated, not even by someone in a white coat. Your voice may be small, but it's a ripple that can have a great effect. People in positions of power and/or authority are still people at the end of the day. If you get nothing else from today's episode, go with these two takeaways: First, never let fear stop you from speaking out for justice. Secondly, give credit where it's due. It's easy to see all the negative in life, to complain about every bad thing. Remember that you can create Beauty wherever you go.
After about a week in the hospital, eating terrible food, having blood drawn daily, getting a blood thinner shot that stung everyday, and hardly getting sleep, I was a wreck. My hormones heightened everything I was feeling and the constant pain of my son pressing on my pelvis was driving me crazy (my hubby would say that's a short drive). The attending doctor would stop in to see me at least once a day and I'd been in the hospital long enough at that point to see several different attendings. The one in today's story also happened to be the head doctor of the entire unit. Sometimes the higher up the career ladder people get, the further away from the ground work they get too. This can make it easy to forget the humanity, the heart, of the work you do. I'm sure you can imagine that forgetting to put people first as a medical professional could have bad consequences.
By my 35th week, I was huge! I could barely move. Breathing was more difficult as my growing boy was outgrowing the space within me. He was pressing up against my chest cavity and his head sat really low in my pelvis. It was predicted that if carried to full-term, he would be 9 pounds! I was begging to be induced at this point. I felt like my body couldn't handle the pregnancy anymore. I knew there were risks to having a baby pre-term, but I also knew there were great risks to me if I continued as well. There was a chance of clotting since I was bedridden and I can't truly describe the pain I felt. I was limited on the medication I could take since I was pregnant and nothing was helping. Pain is a real issue. For my people who have to deal with chronic pain, I truly salute your daily strength. Pain was making me lose my mind.
This doctor I mentioned must have gotten fed up with me. I wasn't nasty to her, but kept asking her to go over the risks of having my baby at 35 weeks. I kept implying that I wanted to know if we could move forward with inducing, particularly because I believed my baby's chances for survival, and being healthy, were pretty high at this point. The doctor decided to call a NICU doctor to speak with me. Here is where things took a bad turn. The doctor stood in the hallway, with my door open, and spoke to the NICU doctor about my case. She called me out by my last name, which is what actually drew my attention to the conversation happening outside. She said I was insisting on having a preemie baby and told the NICU doctor to come in my room and "lay it on thick," essentially meaning the NICU doctor should try to scare the crap out of me by telling me every possible bad thing that could happen.
By the time the NICU doctor came into my room, my husband and I were angry and on high alert. She spoke about pretty much every condition and challenge a preemie baby could face, including ones that were incredibly unlikely at this stage. She also talked about disability like it was the worst fate a child could face. In all fairness, the head doctor didn't tell her I was disabled and I was covered in blankets. I was balling and asked her to leave. I could tell that when she realized we weren't some nut job parents trying to do anything to be rid of the baby within, she felt bad. My tears reached her heart. She apologized and left.
I didn't stand up for myself right away. I honestly didn't know what options were in place to do so, besides screaming at the doctor myself, which I knew was not the ideal. Enter my mom to the rescue again! The next day, my mom came to visit and I told her what happened. She told me every hospital has a Patient Advocacy Department, people who are there to ensure patients have a place to go if they feel their rights are violated or they have a complaint. There were a few issues here that I told my advocate. The first is that my HIPPA rights were violated. If I heard the doctor, who used my name, in the hallways, then it is likely that other patients, visitors, and anyone within the vicinity also heard her. Also, the intimidation tactic the doctor tried to use was not healthy for my mental or emotional well-being. As the head of the department, she needed to be corrected.
Now I'm all about giving credit where it is due. The next day the doctor came in my room. I was nervous honestly. I mean, it was that feeling you get when you're a kid and you snitch on your friends. However, she came in and apologized. She even thanked us for taking the steps we did, saying it's important for doctors to be reminded of best practices and how to treat patients. She acted professionally and really showed me respect. I could see why she made it to her position, she deserved it.
It's important to know your rights and to know how to enforce them. I was scared. I felt like no one would really appreciate what I had to say against this clearly well-respected doctor. I'm glad I was wrong. You don't deserve to be bullied or intimidated, not even by someone in a white coat. Your voice may be small, but it's a ripple that can have a great effect. People in positions of power and/or authority are still people at the end of the day. If you get nothing else from today's episode, go with these two takeaways: First, never let fear stop you from speaking out for justice. Secondly, give credit where it's due. It's easy to see all the negative in life, to complain about every bad thing. Remember that you can create Beauty wherever you go.
[Bling]
Mandi: Be sure to listen to last week's episode to learn about the story behind #whatsupdoc🥕. Then take a picture with your healthcare provider, including doctors, nurses, therapists, etc, who are providing inclusive care, or use the hashtag in a post sharing your own lack of access story, whether a physical barrier or an attitude barrier. You can tag me on Instagram and Facebook at MandiBox Beauty, or drop me a note at my website th3mandibox.wixsite.com/fybpodcast. On my site, you can also listen to episodes, read full transcripts, and shop merch. Be sure you sign up for my Very Important Beauty (V.I.B.) club while you're there, so you can get reminders and other insider scoop. The first email you'll get from me includes the very first letter my husband, Curtis, ever wrote to me!
This podcast is also available on iTunes, Google Podcasts, Spotify, and any other place you like to listen! Visit my website linked in the description to get access to all the platforms.
[Mandi voiceover to 'Compton' music]: Since there isn't much info on people with Arthrogryposis having children, I'll share some practical experiences and suggestions in next week's episode, "Pregnancy Brain." ‘Til next time Beauties!
This podcast is also available on iTunes, Google Podcasts, Spotify, and any other place you like to listen! Visit my website linked in the description to get access to all the platforms.
[Mandi voiceover to 'Compton' music]: Since there isn't much info on people with Arthrogryposis having children, I'll share some practical experiences and suggestions in next week's episode, "Pregnancy Brain." ‘Til next time Beauties!
Comments
Post a Comment