I was lucky to get a wristband last Sunday 4/25 for the RAM free clinic here in Los Angeles being held April 27th through May 3rd. My only day off is Saturday, so it was imperative I get a spot for that day, and after 4 hours in the hot sun in a line with thousands of other desperate, sickly folks I got the Saturday wristband and went on my merry way.
One week later at the unGodly hour of 4:30 AM I headed back to the Los Angeles Sports Arena determined to take advantage of whatever services I could.
My sad tale below:
After finding my way there (directions are not my forte)and getting a good parking spot, I lined up with the rest of the sick minions and waited. People were fairly friendly and I decided to pretend it was like doing extra work, minus the glimpes of celebrities, costumes, makeup and a meeger paycheck. So far so good.
The bullhorn was whipped out at 6am and the masses, not listening to the instructions stampeded (okay, maybe just walked fast) to the front and after repeating instructions several times they finally "got" that the number on our wristbands would be the order we would be admitted. That simple concept seemed lost on some who still bottlenecked at the front of the line.
My number block was called, I lined up, was given further instructions once outside the main doors and was called by individual number to wait in another line inside. The first line was to determine what you were there for, medical, vision or dental, and I opted for all 3 as I'm sure many did. Then you had to fill out paperwork (a chart) and show your I.D. Then, you sat with an R.N. and gave them a brief medical history, such as why you're there, what services you need, any precautions like allergies etc. She took my blood pressure and pulse and sent me down to the main floor. So far so good.
For the most part, I knew my own sad tale of being a cancer survivor at a young age and being hopelessly uninsurable and broke would ellicit some extra attention, which I was kind of hoping for. Most people take one look at me and think well she looks healthy enough, she's walking and talking, she's not bleeding out her eyes or barfing up a lung. So if it takes a sob story to make someone listen to my plight, I will gladly swallow my pride a little bit and give it a go.
My first goal on the main floor was a mammogram. I found a lump 5 months ago and was having some pain. Most of these things turn out to be benign, but with a prior history of cancer and future access to health care beyond this clinic not looking good I wanted some assurance one way or another.
At the mammogram area I was first asked how old I was. I will be 40 in June. A tech told me the state of CA will not pay for mammograms for anyone younger than 40. I mentioned a lump, history of cancer and being one month shy of 40, but no dice. I was told to hit the road.
Funny, that is what I hear from the medical world on a daily basis, but it seemed to sting a little more at a free clinic. I started to feel like I might not be having much luck today and hoped the rest of the medical care would be a bit more stellar. Again, I had to remind myself that in this small sphere of the Los Angeles Sports Arena, I was in a third world country and for the most part was a third world citizen.
Next stop, Women's services, which on a news report the day before they mentioned was kind of slow as most folks wanted to get vision and dental care and didn't want to lose their place in those lines. Armed with that information I decided to make Dental care the last of my stops that day.
At Women's Services I was met by many wonderful women who were generally concerned and very helpful. I wanted to thank Dr. Lopez and Neely (sp?) for their help and attention. I had a pap and pelvic exam and she checked my lump, but the darm thing was no where to be found. Funnily it is here today again so perhaps cysts and other benign things move around on their own, hope that is a good sign.
Next, I had my blood checked for anemia. It was fine as I knew I would be. Beyond my history of cancer and major dental woes I am pretty darn healthy.
Next stop, I walked past the HIV testing area and was enticed to get the test done becuase it's a good thing to do and it's free. It was a quick mouth swab and then I was given a blue card and told to come back in half an hour for the results.
Next stop, Vision. Again, great, attentive volunteers which made the process much easier. Fortunately, I recently had an eye exam like I do every year, cause being only 80 bucks it's the one appointment I can actually afford and already had a scrip. I've just never been able to afford new glasses. After having the same pair for 11 years and knowing my prescription had dramatically changed during that time, I wanted new glasses. Having my own scrip seemed to cause some confusion at first, I didn't go through the normal 5 step process that everyone else did to get their scrip, so not having the "appropriate" paperwork meant several different folks had to look at it and consult with the person making the glasses before I got the okay and could pick out frames. Yipee! I picked my frames was given a number and told to come back in 2 or 3 hours.
Next stop, the dreaded dental area. Clearly the busiest area right in the middle of the main floor. First you had to sit in the area to get assessed. Then they wrote on your medical chart what you needed done and you had to go back and wait in the appropriate sitting area (i.e. extractions/cleanings/fillings etc).
Next stop, the actual dreaded procedure. For me, all that could be done was an extraction. Everything else I needed done was too complicated. Thanks to Sjogren's Syndrome, which is an autoimmune disorder that attacks the salivary glands, which led to Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma in my parotid gland and subsequent radiation therapy, well, let's just say my teeth are frakked up. They are decaying faster than I can come up with the money to fix them. the cost to get everything squared away is easily in the thousands and I just can't scrap it together. You know little things like rent, utilities, food, gas for the car gets in the way.
So the extraction, the wait wasn't too long, things were kind of hopping as procedures were being done quickly and from what I saw efficiently. I got novacaine, the tooth was extracted and within 10 minutes I was out of the chair with a mouthful of bloody gauze and a scrip for antibiotics and ibuprofen, picked up within minutes at the Presription station. Very nice.
Next and hopefully last stop of the day, back to the Vision area to wait for my glasses. That was probably the longest of the waits that day. Fortunately I brought a few of my beloved Jane Austen books to keep me occupied. After about a two hour wait, in which a nice little lunch of a 6 inch Subway sub and some fresh apple slices was distributed, my glasses were ready. So wonderful to see better now. My vision had changed dramatically in the 11 years since my last pair so it was like a whole new world to me.
At this point, from 4:30 AM when I started to getting my glasses and checking out, I had been there 10 hours. Yikes. The long tiring day was tempered by the wonderful group of volunteer medical professionals that I encountered.
Now for a mini rant - why in America should people be subjected to this experience? Why can't we just pick up a damned phone and make an appointment and go to a doc's office and get our medical care like civilized people? Just because we are uninsured and/or unable to afford our medical care out of pocket, we need to desperately try to get medical care from these wonderful folks. Every patient I talked to said essentially the same thing, they can't afford insurance due to illness or being priced out or their insurance just doesn't cover many necessary things they need, so they just go without until something like RAM rolls into town.
****I don't want to use this diary to discuss my own views on health care reform, I'll believe it when I see it or experience it. I still was hoping for a Public Option though :(.***
As I was in my car trying to get out of the lot, there appeared to be a USC football game letting out at the same time from the stadium next to the LA Sports Arena. I witnessed hundreds of sweet looking, wholesome American families dressed in their red and gold USC colors getting into their fancy pants Lexus and Mercedes SUV's. Next to every beat up 15-year-old Honda or Subaru containing a RAM patient with bloody gauze hanging out of their mouth would be a fancy pants car with happy-go-lucky USC fans waving their foam fingers. A stark contrast for sure, the desperately needy sickies and the robust families with their probably kick ass, gold-plated insurance plans, side by side, but worlds apart.
In summary, I cannot thank the RAM staff and hardworking volunteers enough. They were pleasant, knowledgeable, courteous, well-organized and tireless in their mission to help as many people as they could. Special thanks to Dr. Lopez, Neely (sp?), Dr. Haffas and his hygienist, the wonderful Oncologist and everyone in that general area (such a crazy day several names are escaping me, my bad) that were concerned about my ominous neck mass and gave me information about a foundation that may be able to help me. All those who helped me in the Vision area and finally the sweet lady at check out, who couldn't hear me cause I had a mouth full of bloody disgusting gauze.
Everyone, if you can, please donate to RAM. They do great work!
UPDATE:: Wow, my diary was rescued, very cool. Thanks Rescue Rangers!!!