In my time as a patient advocate, I have come to realize that a lack of trust between parties – clinicians, hospitals, insurance companies, patients, etc. – is the root of a majority of the problems and roadblocks within the system that we currently have no choice but to deal with. On the patient side, that stems from the fact that, based on their policies, it’s hard for us to believe that our well-being is a priority for the rest of the stakeholders.
Case in point:
I have a friend. She recently had a beautiful, healthy baby girl – such a little blessing.
My friend’s first baby was fairly drama-free but, when we caught up recently, she told me that this time around was anything but. One particular episode stood out to me.
Shortly after the birth, my friend hemorrhaged, losing half of the blood in her body. She needed a transfusion. But the hospital policy said that, since there was a blood shortage, she would have to wait in order for the hospital to figure out whether she was a priority for that blood.
I get it. Blood shortages make lots of medical situations difficult. These policies make sense on a practical level. But how often is any medical situation purely practical? And when a patient hears, “Oh, you just hemorrhaged half of the blood out of your body, but wait, we have to test your hemoglobin before we help you,” it doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. How close to death did she have to get before getting the treatment she needed? Sounds pretty emotional to me.
[Sound familiar? See: abortion bans and restrictions]
I’m not saying that these policies don’t exist for a reason. But somehow, I don’t think that how patients feel in the middle of a crisis is considered when these policies are put into practice. So, what happens when these decisions are executed? When trust is damaged?
Both sides have valid points. Hospitals are businesses with requirements and regulations they have to meet, or else they might not be businesses anymore. Patients need to feel like they will get what they need when they seek emergency care or they might not seek it anymore. This can lead to negative health impacts on not just the individual patient, but depending on the illness, on the overall public health.
In this particular case, while I was wondering what could be done to address the issue that caused the policy, I discovered that hospitals get their blood supplies primarily from blood banks. Is there a reason why hospitals don’t do blood drives? My understanding is that hospitals invest a lot of money and manpower into creating an image of a trustworthy pillar of the community around it. What better way to build community than blood drives that will provide for the members of the community?
It's just a thought. I don’t know what kind of money and infrastructure would be involved in collecting, testing, and storing blood. I don’t know whether there are licenses required that the hospitals don’t already have. But I hope that the people who set the policies are having discussions to consider the possibilities on a regular basis.
Because this is just one small example of the ways patient trust takes a hit every day. One of thousands. Luckily, this one had a happy ending. My friend recovered, and aside from some blood pressure issues that are under control, she and baby are happy and healthy at home.
Sometimes, patients aren’t that lucky.