You probably know that appendicitis can be life-threatening. If your appendix bursts, it can cause a deadly bacterial infection that’s extremely difficult to stop.
Well, imagine having appendicitis and Covid-19 at the same time. It happened to me. And what happened next could have easily killed me.
But the greatest threat to my life wasn’t the appendicitis or the Covid. It was the hospital.
We were all set to celebrate my daughter’s 18th birthday. She was looking forward to opening her presents. But instead, I was in the emergency room.
That morning I had woken up with my stomach bloated and in pain. By that evening, the pain had moved down to my right lower abdomen. I knew I had appendicitis.
We arrived at the ER, where I waited and waited – for over 4 hours. The doctor ordered a CT scan, which confirmed the diagnosis.
How to Make an ER Go Haywire
The next morning, they were preparing me for surgery. As part of the hospital’s policy, they tested me for Covid. And I tested positive!
That set off a buzz in the ER. Covid can increase the risks of complications during surgery. And the hospital had a policy that they would do no elective surgery on someone with Covid.
But, as you may know, not operating on an infected appendix can be life-threatening. So was this elective surgery or emergency surgery? I argued that this was emergency surgery. But they weren’t having it.
Keep in mind that I was showing no symptoms of Covid. I’ve spoken to other doctors who say they’ve been operating on asymptomatic Covid patients without any problems. I’ve also heard stories of other people in my exact situation who had no problem with surgery.
But that didn’t matter. The hospital had a one-size-fits-all policy that meant they weren’t going to operate.
So instead of getting my appendix out that first morning, I now had to stay in the hospital so they could give me antibiotics and monitor my appendix.
If my appendix responded to the antibiotics, they could delay surgery until after I was over Covid. If it didn’t, they would have to operate. The irony is that by that time, I could start showing Covid symptoms. Which means their delay was potentially putting me at greater risk.
So there I was in limbo, alone at the hospital for six days. No visitors were allowed – not even my wife, who had already been exposed to my Covid infection. They gave me Dilaudid, an opioid narcotic that’s 5-10 times stronger than morphine, for the appendix pain. They started the IV antibiotics. Still no Covid symptoms.
On day 5 of my hospital stay, they gave me another Covid test (this was test #2). It confirmed the positive diagnosis. That night I experienced the first Covid symptoms – a light cough. Over the coming days, I developed some fatigue and brain fog. But the Covid symptoms remained mild.
Has the Medical System Lost Its Mind?
Fortunately, my appendix was responding to the IV antibiotics. So on day 6 of my stay, they sent me home. In addition to the usual medication prescriptions, my surgeon also gave me a prescription for a Covid test two days after my release. He knew it would be positive – and it was. To this day, I’m not sure why he ordered it so soon. But that day was a fiasco.
I showed up to the testing center the surgeon told me to go to. I handed my prescription to the nurse, who asked me when my surgery was scheduled. I told her they couldn’t schedule my surgery until I had a negative test. She told me I couldn’t get tested until I had surgery scheduled! It was a Catch 22!
So I called my surgeon’s office, and they told me to go somewhere else to get tested. I laughed. I told them:
“You told me to come to this particular facility – and they can’t help me. And now you’re telling me to go somewhere else. Have you tried to get a test lately? We’ve been trying to find another place for our daughters to get tested for the last two days. There isn’t a rapid-testing appointment available within 50 miles of us.”
Neither the testing center, my doctor, nor the hospital would budge on their rules. So I went home.
About an hour later, the hospital called and told me to get a rapid test done at the North Fulton Health Department facility. So we went there, waited in line for an hour, and finally got the test done. As we left, they said our results would be emailed to us in two to five days. It wasn’t a rapid test. This was test #3.
As I was driving home, I called my surgeon’s office and told them what happened. They said they would call me back.
A few minutes later they called back and told me they scheduled my surgery for the following Monday. I’m not sure why they couldn’t do this earlier, but at least they got it done. Of course, they needed a test result before operating. Now that I had a surgery date, I went back to the original testing center and got tested again (test #4). Once again, the test came back positive, which further delayed my surgery.
A few days later, on Wednesday – two days before Christmas – I went for still another test (#5). Once again, the test came back positive. The hospital wouldn’t allow me to be tested again until the following Wednesday, one week later (and two days before New Year’s Day).
That Wednesday would be 18 days after I first tested positive in the hospital. According to the CDC, I should have been fine after 14 days (but the CDC also says I could test positive for up to 3 months).
This was unacceptable. The longer they pushed my surgery off, the higher the risk of my appendix rupturing. Plus, it meant surgery wouldn’t happen until after the New Year – meaning I had to pay another deductible.
When a Negative Test Isn’t a Negative Test
I live in the Atlanta area, so I decided to go to an Emory Hospital testing facility on Monday, December 28th (16 days after the initial test). Emory Hospital is next door to the CDC and one of the finest hospitals in the country. I figured their test would carry some weight with my local hospital. So I got tested again (test #6). The test was negative. Finally!
I called my surgeon’s office and told them about the test. They said, “Great, bring us the paperwork and we’ll get you scheduled for surgery.” I drove the paperwork over to their office, expecting them to schedule surgery for the next day or so.
Instead, a couple of hours later, the surgeon’s office called and said that the hospital wouldn’t accept the negative test because I had it done too early. I was baffled. I asked, “Isn’t a negative test a negative test?” They said yes. My surgeon was just as baffled as I was – and was not happy about their policy.
The only reason they didn’t accept the test was because it wasn’t done on the hospital’s timetable! It didn’t matter that the test was from Emory and that it was negative – it wasn’t good enough for them.
Up until this point, the surgeon had walked the hospital line. If the hospital said “jump,” he asked, “how high?” It didn’t matter if it was in my best interest or not. He wouldn’t consider any of my suggestions if they went against hospital policy.
Once the hospital pulled this new policy out of its hat, the surgeon’s opinion clearly shifted. He was now in my corner. He saw that the hospital policy had no regard for the patient, and was solely focused on the hospital’s goals. This shift came into play later, so I was very thankful he finally saw what was going on.
The hospital required me to wait two more days to get the test. So I complied (test #7). As expected, that test came back negative. So surgery was all set for Monday, January 4th. Or, at least I thought it was.
Sunday afternoon, January 3rd, my surgeon called and said he had to postpone surgery once again because now he had Covid. This was getting comical. What could I do? I asked if there was another surgeon who could do it, but there wasn’t one available. He rescheduled surgery for Thursday, January 7, 2021.
Even More Insanity
On Tuesday, two days before surgery, Pre-Op called to give me all the things I needed to know for the day of surgery. At the end of the call, the nurse asked, “Have you had your Covid test?” I said, “No, no one told me I had to get another one. I had two negative tests last week.” She said she would check with her supervisor and call me back.
A few minutes later, she called back and asked, “Didn’t you have a test done after the 23rd – one from Emory?” I said, “Yes, it was done on the 28th and it was negative.” She said that one would suffice and that I should bring the paperwork with me on Thursday.
Well, that was the test the hospital didn’t accept because it was done too early. Now, for some reason I didn’t understand, it was a valid test. But I wasn’t going to argue.
The next day, a different nurse from Pre-Op called and asked again, “Have you had your Covid test?” I told her about the call with the nurse the previous day. And she said to ignore what that nurse said, I had to get another Covid test. So I went for Covid test #8. It wasn’t a rapid test, so I wouldn’t know the result until the next morning when I arrived for surgery.
On Thursday, January 7th, I arrived at the hospital and was brought back to an isolation room. I was surprised that they gave me a private room. But I soon learned why. My Covid test came back positive! After two negative tests, I was now positive again!
The hospital, ever focused on its policies rather than people, wanted to cancel my surgery again. Remember, the CDC says I could test positive for up to 3 months. And my risk for rupture was going up daily.
Fortunately, my surgeon put his foot down. He said this is now emergency surgery and we have to take his appendix out today. The hospital backed down and allowed the surgery to proceed.
The surgeon knew I didn’t have Covid. He wasn’t worried about complications. He saw that the hospital’s policy was not in my best interest and he went to bat for me.
The surgery went great. In fact, the surgeon found a hernia while he was in there and fixed that too. So I got a 2-for-1 deal. The surgeon was confident there wouldn’t be any complications – and there weren’t. He knew what was best for his patient. The hospital didn’t.
Why Our Medical System Is Failing
Covid-19 has exposed the weaknesses of our medical system like nothing has before. We’ve taken medical decisions out of the hands of doctors and put it in the hands of people who have no medical training. The result is a one-size-fits-all, impersonal, ineffective, and even dangerous system.
I’m thankful the medical bureaucracy didn’t cost me my life this time. But it will cost others their lives. We have to fix the system so medically trained professionals make the medical decisions. Whether it’s on a federal level or on a local level, the last thing we need is more bureaucrats making one-size-fits-all policies.
But more importantly, we must have a system where the patient is the most important person in the medical decision. Any system where politicians, insurers, drug companies, the hospital, or even the doctors are the most important people is only going to cost us more lives.