The Fake Out

DAY 80
 
Wow! Today must have been AMPH's 'How to fail a patient in 3 easy steps' day.

At 11am sharp I received a phone call from the 'Assistante Social' of l'Hôpital Nord Marseille informing me my mother would be transferred to rehabilitation in a couple of hours. Strange. They only operated last week and as far as I'm aware there is still a minimum of one operation to go. She's being fed intravenously, is prescribed a heavy duty anti-biotic and has part of her skull exposed. None of this equates to ready for rehabilitation.

I informed my family of the suspicious news to which every response was the same. 'Think positive, it's a good sign'. However, my mind refused to accept the hospital was doing anything other than trying to get rid of my mother.

Arriving at the hospital 45 minutes before the transfer ambulance had been booked, I entered her room to find the medics already there. We left immediately. Mom was so happy to be out of the hospital, in fact, we both were. I'd been waiting 76 days for this. After a journey of nearly an hour, we pulled up to Valmante Rehabilitation centre. The medics took Mom whilst I filled out paperwork in the admissions office. I hadn't even gotten as far as giving the woman my name when the medic interrupted us. 'Don't fill anything out, she's going back to the hospital'. What? You have got to be kidding me! In all their wisdom (read incompetence), l'Hôpital Nord had not fully disclosed my mother's care needs. They were unable to accommodate her as she was not eating, therefore she was not ready for rehabilitation.

Loaded back into the ambulance, Mom looked defeated as did I. The only difference was that I knew deep down that something was going to go wrong, I just had no idea it would be this. I spent the entire journey arguing with the hospital. They didn't want to take her back, it cost 1500€ a night (all covered by her comprehensive medical insurance) and they were going to find a rehabilitation centre that would take her immediately regardless of the implications to her recovery.

When we arrived there was not a doctor, nurse or intern in sight. I waited 3 hours to speak to a supervisor for an explication but alas not one soul ever turned up.

So here we are, back at square one. If the hospital have their way Mom will be shipped off to another rehabilitation centre 25 miles out of town, impossible for me to visit her. It makes me wonder why these complacent idiots choose to work in a service based industry when clearly they do NOT have the patients best interest at heart.