Hit by a car, part 2

For part one please visit here first. 

tldr version; After being hit by a car, I had a difficult time finding good care, gave up and wasted my chance to milk the system and the guy who hit me's insurance. 

If you are ever pregnant, and guys let me tell you, pregnancy in and of itself isn't fun, but, if you ever find yourself pregnant, I highly recommend not getting hit by a car. Also, don't do it in a foreign country where you don't speak the language as your mother tongue. From personal experience, these things don't add up to a happy situation. I was not in a happy situation.

I was also at another disadvantage because my husband, who finally arrived at the hospital, is also a foreigner and just as bewildered by the Japanese medical system as I. If I had been in the states (I'd probably just be concerned about how much that two minute ambulance ride would have cost me, probably in the thousands), I wouldn't have to decide where I wanted to go to get medical care. They would just cart me off to the nearest hospital that has everything I need and I'd be all set for tests and what not. That's not how it worked out. Instead they asked my husband where he could drive me to. That's right. I had been hit by a car, gone to the nearby birthing clinic to get baby checked on, but when it came to my health everyone just sorta tossed their hands up. The ambulance had already been sent on its way, and because I wasn't dying, the baby seemed the priority. But after about 30 mins of monitoring, it seemed that me being attached to the machine was just distressing me more than helping everyone know if the baby was ok. He had a normal heart rate, completely unfazed, but I was in pain. So they said I could go. But where? The big hospital was on lunch break, we couldn't go the large hospital without a recommendation letter, so my doctor convinced us it was better to go to a nearby clinic that he “highly recommends".  Alright but they are on lunch break too, so it's best to just wait. We were provided a tiny little room with two cots, the other cot occupied by another pregnant lady. (This room shows up again in my birth story, if you are curious about it, follow so you know when that story is available.)

By this point, all the chemicals in my body providing me natural pain relief started to die down and every inch of me hurt. I could barely walk on my right leg, and the only visible injury I sustained was a round lesion on my knee from the pavement.

Nearly three o'clock, we were told to go to the clinic down the road and I hobbled to my husband's car, then up to the clinic, visibly full of waiting patients. There were several rows of benches, and these weird ass crappy bars that you are supposed to rest on, I'm assuming for patients who are unable to sit? They are like the “benches" you will find in Shibuya and other urban areas designed to prevent homeless from sleeping, but just enough rest for those"rightful" to take a break. 

Even these were already occupied, so I had to just stand in the waiting room. I'm going to assume the majority of people were there for physical therapy because I never did get a seat before finally going in to see the doctor an hour later. By this point, I just wanted to go home and rest. I was cranky, pregnant and in pain.

If the long wait in the waiting room hadn’t been red flags enough, when I saw the nurse walking past me drop a cotton bud on the ground bend down, pick it up and then place it in the supposedly sanitized and clean pot of other cotton buds, I should have run (hobbled) out of that place screaming. Staff at a hospital or clinic not washing their hands, not wearing gloves when appropriate (not just for show) and not changing out or cleaning surfaces that incoming patients are constantly touching really makes me cringe. This was one of those clinics.

When the doctor finally came over and checked on me, all he did was have me raise my arms, yep hurts, move my legs, yep hurts, and bend my neck, yep hurts. I had pins and needles pain from arm movements and intense pain in my hip and leg. He told me I was fine. Then proceeded to scratch his nasty nose with his little finger, move in close to the open lesion on my leg and poke it with the same (insert cuss words) little finger. My husband had to physically hold me back from punching the guy. As expected, I was given no painkillers because of pregnancy, told to come back in a few days and finally allowed to leave.

That night the guy who hit me with his car came with his boss to give me his obligatory, “Sorry I hit you with my car.” omiyage.

And to let me know that the insurance company would be getting in contact with me.

My first question for the insurance guy was how to go about changing hospitals where I would be getting all my follow up doctors appointments. Fortunately, I could easily change hospitals with a simple form, but unfortunately, the next place was still unhelpful. Cleaner, yes. Better staff and waiting room, yes. Still no pain reliever, physical therapy, or help with recovery at all, no.

Once the baby arrived, I thought, maybe now they will do some tests and see why I still have numbness in my hands, pain when I walk etc. But alas, all they did was take some x-rays, tell me nothing had been broken from the car accident and sent me on my way. This was the same thing I was told when my spine had been injured two years prior. Disheartened and too exhausted from the birth of my son, I just stopped going to the hospital and this is my biggest regret. The insurance stopped paying my medical and considered my case closed after a month of not going back for check-ups. Little did I know that had I kept going, I would have been paid for each day spent in the waiting room of that hospital, the equivalent of a full day of work.

Oh, do I regret not trying harder to get better care? To have been stronger when facing the doctors telling me they can’t do anything? I should have gotten physical therapy. But two years later, I am doing better than I was then. If only a bit put off by the healthcare system.

If you are ever in a similar situation, demand good care.