I'm Stuck at a Hospital and I Can't Leave - Part 01
Today has been one of the strangest days of my life and I’m not too sure what to do or even what I can do in my current situation. I’ve tried calling and texting people and it doesn’t seem to concern them. So now I turn to you, the internet, because I really don’t have any other options at this point.
I guess I should start from the beginning to what happened and how I got in this messed up situation.
A few months ago I got pretty hurt on the job. I’m very thankful and lucky to be alive, but it messed me up pretty bad. I’ve been going to physiotherapy religiously since and have recovered quite well, but I’m nowhere near 100% yet.
Well, the insurance company thinks I am milking the system, or that myself or my physiotherapist isn’t doing all we can to get better. All of this is bullshit, but they need their forms filled out so I humour them. So their response was to send me to a clinic at a nearby hospital, one run by their company. I guess that if their people tell them that I still have a long way to go then maybe
they will ease up a bit.
With that bit of hope, I agreed to go to their facility.
Now I don’t live with my parents anymore, but the hospital where I had to go was in their city, so I got my dad to drop me off. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anyone that could pick me up, so I had to arrange transportation through the insurance company. I have done that more than a few times since the accident and the drop off was normal. Some awkward small talk and classical music.
It was only after I walked into the hospital that things started to tilt a little bit.
Now I wasn't taking note at the time, so full conversations are a tad hazy, so I apologize for all the uncertainty.
I started by registering at the outpatient desk. Most of the check-in was normal, but looking back, I realize that the nurse asked me, “How long will you be staying with us?” and just responded with “As long as I need to.”
Looking back at that question, that is not a typical outpatient question, let alone a typical hospital administrator question. I just thought that she meant whether I had a departure time or not.
Why would I have any reason to think otherwise?
I sat down with some forms and questionnaires to fill out, typical for a first time visit to any clinic. As I was filling out the papers, I noticed from my peripherals that the other people in the waiting room kept on looking at me. Again, I didn't think anything of it. Since the injury, people have been looking at me strangely. Sure it's rude, but I've been dealing with it for months, and I am fairly good at ignoring people's stares. I would just stare back, and most people would look away.
That is exactly what I did when I caught someone staring at me, they immediately looked away. A couple minutes later I noticed someone else was staring, along with the first person. I quickly shot my head up and they both looked away. I went back to finishing up my paperwork.
The last bundle was a multiple choice questionnaire and I focused in on that like a laser. Once I was done, I looked up and saw that the five other people in the waiting room were staring at me. This time was different though, because when I stared back, they just locked eyes with me, and continued to stare. Now, I have been in some very uncomfortable situations in my life, but never like this. I met eyes with everyone in that waiting room and they all just continued to look at me, like they knew something I didn't.
Looking back, maybe they did?
It wasn't until the administrator called the next number that everyone stopped looking at me, and went back to their business. I handed in my paperwork, eyeing everyone with suspicion. I was informed to go to another waiting room, where the specialist would come and get me. While I was walking away, I couldn't help but feel like someone was watching me. I even turned around to check, but every other patient's eyes were looking down at phones, books, etc.
The second waiting room was a lot smaller than the main one, with only a fraction of the seats. I was the only one in there, so I elected to not sit down and pace/stretch instead. My headphones were in so I put on a playlist and stretched my body out.
Since the accident, everything has been quite stiff, and I need to stretch every couple hours to stay in a place of moderate comfort.
I know that it is a little weird to close your eyes and stretch in a hospital waiting room, but my comfort levels have changed and I was more concerned with my own well being, rather than societal norms. Now, I didn't have my music turned up too loud, as I didn't want to miss being called by the specialist. I was stretching for what must have been only a few minutes, and I didn't hear a single sound.
When I opened my eyes, there was a tall man standing on the other side of the door, staring at me through the glass window.
I jumped and made a little noise. He didn't flinch, he just continued to look at me, with no expression at all on his face. I took my headphones out and spoke out to him.
“Are you Dr. Ashby?”
Looking back, I think I yelled it out, but I was pretty unnerved at this point. He didn't respond, he just moved his right arm a little. I heard the doorknob turn along with the soft squeak of the door opening. It seemed to take forever for the door to open and the man to walk through, but as he did, he appeared normal. He had a pleasant expression on his face as he greeted me as Doctor Kellan Ashby.
Now, I asked him if he didn't hear my question through the door, but he acted perplexed, like he didn't hear me ask anything. I tried to shake it off and go with him to the examination room, but I couldn't get rid of the unease that I was feeling. As I walked through that doorway, I looked behind me, to where I was sitting. I don't know what compelled me to look, but I wish that I didn't. On the other side of the glass in the waiting room, I saw a group of people staring into the waiting room. They were all staring where I was sitting, and I noticed that most of them were the people who were in the main registration waiting room. I paused for a quick moment, mostly in shock. As soon as I stopped though, their head snapped towards my current location. All of them staring with unblinking eyes, with no expression on their faces.
I quickly walked through the door at that point, which I shouldn't done in my current state, but the fear pulsing through my body told me to.
The examination room was normal enough, as was the conversation I had with Dr. Ashby. It was the standard conversation I had with anyone in the last few months, with a little more detail since he was a medical professional. I told him what happened and how it happened, along with the aftermath (the hospital stay, the surgery, the discharge). I told him about the physiotherapy I was doing and that I was seeing a psychologist for the anxiety, nightmares and PTSD I was experiencing since I got hurt.
I did most of the talking for this part, and he was taking notes for the most part. The only concerning thing he asked me was, “Could you do it again?” after I described the accident. I just brushed that off, responding with, “I don't know, and I hope that I never have to find out what that limit is.” He chuckled at that and we continued.
Maybe that was his way of checking if it really was a 10/10 on the pain scale?
After we talked for a bit, he checked my physical limitations. We went through the kind of range of motion I had first. He was surprised by my flexibility, especially for a bigger person like myself. He asked through the exam if I was feeling any pain, and I told him that I didn't, and that I never felt any pain when someone else was moving a part of my body, only when I was trying to move it myself.
The second part was the test of strength, and this was the part when I knew things weren't right at this clinic/hospital. The strength tests were basically pushing against him, or seeing if I could push back against him strength. It started out alright, and after a couple of pushes he started putting more pressure on me. I told him that it was too much, but he wouldn't listen, he just kept applying more force to me. I felt my joints crack and my already weak muscles strain against him.
I yelled out in pain and cursed at him, telling him to “fucking stop it!”
That's when he backed off and went back to his notes, almost as if nothing happened. I asked him why he wouldn't back off, as I was clearly struggling. He disregarded me, and continued with his report. I stood as far away from him as I could, while being as close to the door as I could. Now I have been in a few fights in my time, and I have always been fairly strong, but in my weakened, injured state, I felt scared and helpless.
After what seemed like hours, he finally turned to me with a smile and told me that in his opinion, I was healing normally, and that I didn't have anything to worry about. He also assured me that he would tell the insurance company this and I wouldn't have any problems with them. He said he wanted to see me in a month and told me his receptionist would call me to set up an appointment. He got up, patted me on my shoulder and walked out of the room. During this time, I didn't speak a single word, fear tightened around my throat and prevented me from speaking.
I walked out of that room as quickly as I could and walked to the Outpatient Entrance/Exit to wait for my ride. I waited for no more than ten minutes before I started getting concerned. I checked my phone and noticed that the appointment went 40 minutes longer than I anticipated. I called the transportation company and told them what happened. They assured me that it wasn't an issue, and that they would send another driver ASAP.
Reluctantly, I went back inside. It's winter and too cold to stand outside for too long. Plus, the cold makes the metal in my body ache more than usual. I went back to the waiting room, which was now empty. I just watched the window to the parking lot, anxiously awaiting my ride.
I didn't bother putting my headphones back in, as I wanted to be alert in case anything else happened. Now there weren't any more staring incidents, but I did notice once thing.
In the half an hour I was waiting for my ride, I didn't see a single person enter the hospital, only leave.
I felt faint, I felt scared and I felt helpless.
Finally, my ride arrived. I quickly exited the hospital and entered the car. The drive to my parent's would be quick, which I was thankful for. The drive was quiet, which I didn't hate. Soon enough, he stopped the car and came around to open the door, as was this company's policy for their clients. I exited the car and almost threw up at what I saw.
We were back at the hospital.
I looked at the driver as he smiled at me and wished me a pleasant stay at the hospital. With that, he drove off, leaving me there. I looked around, and this time, everyone was looking at me. I stood there, looking at all the people staring at me, dreading what would come next.
The only thing that came next was the cold though, and I was forced to go inside once again.
As I walked in, everyone's gaze stayed fixed on me. I went inside the same damned waiting room and sat down in the same seat. The people outside weren't staring at me anymore, but they were leaving.
Everyone is leaving, except for me.
It isn't quickly, but one by one, people are leaving the hospital, each one staring at me as they walk by the waiting room.
No one has entered the hospital for over two hours.
I called my dad and he ignored everything I said, telling me he will see me when the driver drops me off.
I can't get a hold of my mom or any of my friends.
The transportation company insisted that I was dropped off at home. I fought with them on the phone and I was finally told that a driver would come to the hospital to check for me.
That was an hour ago.
The last thing the dispatcher said to me was,
“Enjoy your stay at the hospital.”
I really don't know what to do at this point, and I am more scared than I have ever been in my life.
Please, can anyone help me?
- Cody S
I guess I should start from the beginning to what happened and how I got in this messed up situation.
A few months ago I got pretty hurt on the job. I’m very thankful and lucky to be alive, but it messed me up pretty bad. I’ve been going to physiotherapy religiously since and have recovered quite well, but I’m nowhere near 100% yet.
Well, the insurance company thinks I am milking the system, or that myself or my physiotherapist isn’t doing all we can to get better. All of this is bullshit, but they need their forms filled out so I humour them. So their response was to send me to a clinic at a nearby hospital, one run by their company. I guess that if their people tell them that I still have a long way to go then maybe
they will ease up a bit.
With that bit of hope, I agreed to go to their facility.
Now I don’t live with my parents anymore, but the hospital where I had to go was in their city, so I got my dad to drop me off. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anyone that could pick me up, so I had to arrange transportation through the insurance company. I have done that more than a few times since the accident and the drop off was normal. Some awkward small talk and classical music.
It was only after I walked into the hospital that things started to tilt a little bit.
Now I wasn't taking note at the time, so full conversations are a tad hazy, so I apologize for all the uncertainty.
I started by registering at the outpatient desk. Most of the check-in was normal, but looking back, I realize that the nurse asked me, “How long will you be staying with us?” and just responded with “As long as I need to.”
Looking back at that question, that is not a typical outpatient question, let alone a typical hospital administrator question. I just thought that she meant whether I had a departure time or not.
Why would I have any reason to think otherwise?
I sat down with some forms and questionnaires to fill out, typical for a first time visit to any clinic. As I was filling out the papers, I noticed from my peripherals that the other people in the waiting room kept on looking at me. Again, I didn't think anything of it. Since the injury, people have been looking at me strangely. Sure it's rude, but I've been dealing with it for months, and I am fairly good at ignoring people's stares. I would just stare back, and most people would look away.
That is exactly what I did when I caught someone staring at me, they immediately looked away. A couple minutes later I noticed someone else was staring, along with the first person. I quickly shot my head up and they both looked away. I went back to finishing up my paperwork.
The last bundle was a multiple choice questionnaire and I focused in on that like a laser. Once I was done, I looked up and saw that the five other people in the waiting room were staring at me. This time was different though, because when I stared back, they just locked eyes with me, and continued to stare. Now, I have been in some very uncomfortable situations in my life, but never like this. I met eyes with everyone in that waiting room and they all just continued to look at me, like they knew something I didn't.
Looking back, maybe they did?
It wasn't until the administrator called the next number that everyone stopped looking at me, and went back to their business. I handed in my paperwork, eyeing everyone with suspicion. I was informed to go to another waiting room, where the specialist would come and get me. While I was walking away, I couldn't help but feel like someone was watching me. I even turned around to check, but every other patient's eyes were looking down at phones, books, etc.
The second waiting room was a lot smaller than the main one, with only a fraction of the seats. I was the only one in there, so I elected to not sit down and pace/stretch instead. My headphones were in so I put on a playlist and stretched my body out.
Since the accident, everything has been quite stiff, and I need to stretch every couple hours to stay in a place of moderate comfort.
I know that it is a little weird to close your eyes and stretch in a hospital waiting room, but my comfort levels have changed and I was more concerned with my own well being, rather than societal norms. Now, I didn't have my music turned up too loud, as I didn't want to miss being called by the specialist. I was stretching for what must have been only a few minutes, and I didn't hear a single sound.
When I opened my eyes, there was a tall man standing on the other side of the door, staring at me through the glass window.
I jumped and made a little noise. He didn't flinch, he just continued to look at me, with no expression at all on his face. I took my headphones out and spoke out to him.
“Are you Dr. Ashby?”
Looking back, I think I yelled it out, but I was pretty unnerved at this point. He didn't respond, he just moved his right arm a little. I heard the doorknob turn along with the soft squeak of the door opening. It seemed to take forever for the door to open and the man to walk through, but as he did, he appeared normal. He had a pleasant expression on his face as he greeted me as Doctor Kellan Ashby.
Now, I asked him if he didn't hear my question through the door, but he acted perplexed, like he didn't hear me ask anything. I tried to shake it off and go with him to the examination room, but I couldn't get rid of the unease that I was feeling. As I walked through that doorway, I looked behind me, to where I was sitting. I don't know what compelled me to look, but I wish that I didn't. On the other side of the glass in the waiting room, I saw a group of people staring into the waiting room. They were all staring where I was sitting, and I noticed that most of them were the people who were in the main registration waiting room. I paused for a quick moment, mostly in shock. As soon as I stopped though, their head snapped towards my current location. All of them staring with unblinking eyes, with no expression on their faces.
I quickly walked through the door at that point, which I shouldn't done in my current state, but the fear pulsing through my body told me to.
The examination room was normal enough, as was the conversation I had with Dr. Ashby. It was the standard conversation I had with anyone in the last few months, with a little more detail since he was a medical professional. I told him what happened and how it happened, along with the aftermath (the hospital stay, the surgery, the discharge). I told him about the physiotherapy I was doing and that I was seeing a psychologist for the anxiety, nightmares and PTSD I was experiencing since I got hurt.
I did most of the talking for this part, and he was taking notes for the most part. The only concerning thing he asked me was, “Could you do it again?” after I described the accident. I just brushed that off, responding with, “I don't know, and I hope that I never have to find out what that limit is.” He chuckled at that and we continued.
Maybe that was his way of checking if it really was a 10/10 on the pain scale?
After we talked for a bit, he checked my physical limitations. We went through the kind of range of motion I had first. He was surprised by my flexibility, especially for a bigger person like myself. He asked through the exam if I was feeling any pain, and I told him that I didn't, and that I never felt any pain when someone else was moving a part of my body, only when I was trying to move it myself.
The second part was the test of strength, and this was the part when I knew things weren't right at this clinic/hospital. The strength tests were basically pushing against him, or seeing if I could push back against him strength. It started out alright, and after a couple of pushes he started putting more pressure on me. I told him that it was too much, but he wouldn't listen, he just kept applying more force to me. I felt my joints crack and my already weak muscles strain against him.
I yelled out in pain and cursed at him, telling him to “fucking stop it!”
That's when he backed off and went back to his notes, almost as if nothing happened. I asked him why he wouldn't back off, as I was clearly struggling. He disregarded me, and continued with his report. I stood as far away from him as I could, while being as close to the door as I could. Now I have been in a few fights in my time, and I have always been fairly strong, but in my weakened, injured state, I felt scared and helpless.
After what seemed like hours, he finally turned to me with a smile and told me that in his opinion, I was healing normally, and that I didn't have anything to worry about. He also assured me that he would tell the insurance company this and I wouldn't have any problems with them. He said he wanted to see me in a month and told me his receptionist would call me to set up an appointment. He got up, patted me on my shoulder and walked out of the room. During this time, I didn't speak a single word, fear tightened around my throat and prevented me from speaking.
I walked out of that room as quickly as I could and walked to the Outpatient Entrance/Exit to wait for my ride. I waited for no more than ten minutes before I started getting concerned. I checked my phone and noticed that the appointment went 40 minutes longer than I anticipated. I called the transportation company and told them what happened. They assured me that it wasn't an issue, and that they would send another driver ASAP.
Reluctantly, I went back inside. It's winter and too cold to stand outside for too long. Plus, the cold makes the metal in my body ache more than usual. I went back to the waiting room, which was now empty. I just watched the window to the parking lot, anxiously awaiting my ride.
I didn't bother putting my headphones back in, as I wanted to be alert in case anything else happened. Now there weren't any more staring incidents, but I did notice once thing.
In the half an hour I was waiting for my ride, I didn't see a single person enter the hospital, only leave.
I felt faint, I felt scared and I felt helpless.
Finally, my ride arrived. I quickly exited the hospital and entered the car. The drive to my parent's would be quick, which I was thankful for. The drive was quiet, which I didn't hate. Soon enough, he stopped the car and came around to open the door, as was this company's policy for their clients. I exited the car and almost threw up at what I saw.
We were back at the hospital.
I looked at the driver as he smiled at me and wished me a pleasant stay at the hospital. With that, he drove off, leaving me there. I looked around, and this time, everyone was looking at me. I stood there, looking at all the people staring at me, dreading what would come next.
The only thing that came next was the cold though, and I was forced to go inside once again.
As I walked in, everyone's gaze stayed fixed on me. I went inside the same damned waiting room and sat down in the same seat. The people outside weren't staring at me anymore, but they were leaving.
Everyone is leaving, except for me.
It isn't quickly, but one by one, people are leaving the hospital, each one staring at me as they walk by the waiting room.
No one has entered the hospital for over two hours.
I called my dad and he ignored everything I said, telling me he will see me when the driver drops me off.
I can't get a hold of my mom or any of my friends.
The transportation company insisted that I was dropped off at home. I fought with them on the phone and I was finally told that a driver would come to the hospital to check for me.
That was an hour ago.
The last thing the dispatcher said to me was,
“Enjoy your stay at the hospital.”
I really don't know what to do at this point, and I am more scared than I have ever been in my life.
Please, can anyone help me?
- Cody S
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