EMERGENCY ONLY - MEDICAL PROTOCOL - ADC STYLE - Government - http://maxpages.com/lifemeanslife/Emergency

Being a reasonably healthy even if increasingly overweight type of guy, I, like most of us on occasion, was shocked when I was suddenly assaulted by a couple of bugs and other calamities common to people over 45. I was perfectly alrigsaht one moment, and the next I seemed to have contracted an ear infection, a sinus infection, and two of my remaining teeth surrendered to the nerves which suddenly sprang forth from them!

I suspect that the infections came either from doors up and down the halls that are never cleaned or disinfected despite being touched by hundreds of prisoners every day, or from the cloud of chemicals (to which I am allergic) that were sprayed on me by a crop duster while I was running a few laps in the Yard.

Although I despise having to go to the Infirmary for anything, once I decided that maybe I should, I actually also thought that it was a good thing that I just happened to have three separate problems all at once, because I had already noted that the nurses at the Infirmary have implemented a procedure called a "triage", whose root I know to refer to the concept "three", and it was obvious that prisoners who did not have at least three things wrong with them at once just weren't going to get any medical treatment there anyway.

After putting a sick call request slip in last Tuesday explaining that I seemed to have contracted a couple of moderately serious infections, I was finally triaged and placed on the lay-in list on Thursday to see someone at the Infirmary. Good thing, because I wasn't sure I could last another day without sleep.

After a while a nurse - I think he was a nurse - called me into the office, and after listening to my excruciating pains he looked blankly at me and referred to a "Protocol" manual there on the desk. Next, he looked under "ear pain" - and it read ... "Tylenol." Then, he looked under "sinus pain" and it read ... "Tylenol." In fact, I would almost swear that I saw Tylenol stamped onto every page of that manual I happened to see. Ergo, I conclude that "Protocol" is a fancy medical term for Tylenol.

I asked him whether he was going to look up "tooth ache", but he informed me that that was not within his area of medical expertise and that I needed to go directly to the Dental Office to be informed about the Tylenol, er, protocol to be followed.

After I stared blankly back at him in return for a moment, I wanted desperately to ask whether he thought that there might be a difference between ear and sinus "pain", and ear and sinus infection, but I have a feeling that it would not have done any good. I already knew that Tylenol had become a miracle drug within the ADC, but I did not know that it had properties to fight off bacteria or viruses. Hmm. Learn something every day. I was simply thankful that my trip to the Infirmary had already turned into such a valuable learning experience.

After an overdose of medical explanations far beyond my comprehension regarding Tylenol, and after me explaining that I also suffered from symptoms of acute civil rights litigation when I get upset, I did not get any Tylenol after all.

I think I tee'd the nurse off. I got laid in to see a doctor instead, and now, five days later, I'm still laying, albeit sleeplessly. The viruses haven't had a bit of rest either though, I note. I'm sure the prolific little microbes have multiplied by a few millions or billions by now.

Being slightly ahead of the nurse - which I note is generally not a very difficult thing to do around here - I had also put in a request slip to the dental lab on Tuesday, saying that I was hurting a tad above the average and needed two pesky little tooth nerves yanked out on account of they were driving me crazy. Tuesday rolled around, and I was not called to the tooth doctor's office, either. I guess maybe the nurse had decided to let the dental staff know that I was rather dense and had great difficulty with understanding Infirmary protocol, so I likely would not understand dental protocol either.

On Friday, after yet another sleepless night, I got my supervisor to take me to the dental lab. I hoped that perhaps they'd be kind enough to spray that "Oh What A Relief It Is" spray on them - and maybe I could race down the hall to my barracks, nose dive into my rack, and get to sleep before the throbs mutated into immunity to the spray. But, nope - "Can't do it," I was informed.

I must admit that some very tempting thoughts crossed my mind when I saw that xylocane spray sitting only a few feet away; a carrot even closer than clemency, and with the flabby lips of the slob in the dental lab within perfect four knuckle striking range! Ah, but the torturous bitter sweetness of a rehabilitated life.

Today, after raising a little more fuss about being eligible for the triage, seeing that I actually had three concurrent ailments, I did receive word that I was in fact to be laid in for dental call next Tuesday! Oh, eternity, eternity! But, looking on the plus side, and no matter what else may happen, by the time you read this I'll have made it. Thank God for print lag! If worse comes to worse I know where I can get hold of some pliers for a few minutes, or grab some hefty thread. A razor blade had worked just fine the last time protocol indicated that Tylenol was also for cysts.

Anyway, it had been a few years since I'd had to go to the Infirmary for some treatment, and I have got to admit that I got the treatment, alright! I've always been able to understand that some things ought to be "Emergency Only." However, I do think that in this age of advanced medicine it has gone a little too far when an emergency is not what you have when you go to the Infirmary, but is what you end up with after you go there, only because of someone's apparent need to enhance stockholder profits. Indeed, I have decided now that CMS keeping its stockholders from stressing out is actually preventative medicine. Like Tylenol.

Oh, don't be depressed. My story has a happy ending, or at least I dare to prophesy one. On Monday, just a few more hours from now it's our commissary day, and I've got a little money left for some - you guessed it - Tylenol! However, I probably won't need it anymore by then, because the tooth nerves will have died from old age, and I'm hoping that the viruses will have multiplied either into evolutionary sterility, or into purely spiritual microbes on another plane.

On the serious side, I sympathize with you guys who are really hurting. Unless you have someone on the outside really willing to raise a major fuss about you getting some medical treatment, the best you can expect is a good dose of protocol. In fact, I would bet that in such circumstances CMS has a book called "Special Protocol - When Inmates' Families Are Involved." For the rest of you, maybe there's a treatment facility in the next life.

On a final note, we've come a long way in the last couple of years, with accreditation and all, but I have to say that CMS's medical treatment is facing the wrong direction when the march into the 21st Century starts. For those of you who may be feeling a little litigious, a hint: It remains my opinion that no private medical provider ought to be allowed to contract to use prisoners, who are official wards of the state, as the commodity for generating profits into PRIVATE pockets in the PRIVATE SECTOR.

I was not sentenced to prison to allow a bunch of money hungry stockholders to profit from my health (for which they actually got paid in advance); not to place my health in jeopardy by jacking up the profit margin of a private corporation. Period. Contracting state prisoners out to work for private individuals has been illegal for decades, and this is not the slightest bit different.

by Rolf Kaestel

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