Jeanne Konecny

The dictionary defines “frivolous” as “lacking in seriousness, without importance.”  This is my experience with a “frivolous” malpractice incident in the hands of “healthcare professionals.”

It was supposed to be a relatively simple out-patient procedure, and I was assured I’d be home in two hours.  I entered the hospital for the placement of a “central line” necessary for IV antibiotics for the treatment of advanced Lyme disease.

The line, inserted by a radiologist, caused me excruciating pain immediately.  I screamed.  The line had been forced out of my vein, hitting nerves.  He continued threading the line through my upper arm, hitting nerves.  The doctor removed the first line and inserted a second, this time supposedly correctly.  But when I tried to move my arm it flopped lifelessly on the table.  I feared I was paralyzed, as did the doctor, who then removed the second line as well.  I was suddenly left alone, in tremendous pain, and terrified.

In the recovery room the nurses quickly assessed that I was injured, and ignored me.  Eight hours passed.  They gave me nothing for pain although I asked repeatedly.  I wasn’t allowed to make or receive phone calls.  I left the hospital, relieved to be going home to seek help.  But I was leaving with permanent nerve damage in my hand and a blood clot forming in my chest.  I am alive today only because the clot was large enough to lodge inches from my heart, averting a pulmonary embolism.

The only follow-up by the hospital were the efforts to protect itself.

Getting medical help for my injuries turned out to be as painful emotionally as it was physically.  For two years, I persevered, seeing 18 specialists.  Seventeen wanted nothing to do with me because of the cause of my injuries.  Only one tried to help.  The doctor who injured me was paid $5,000.

Six months later I had to go through the same procedure and was petrified.  At that time the clot was discovered.  I was told that it was “stable”.  Ten months later I was told to go to the intensive care unit “for the weekend” to dissolve the clot.  But another doctor advised me that the risks were too great.  I had had a close enough brush with death.  So my “stable” clot remains.

When I asked my HMO for an “explanation of benefits” for this “error” and its consequences, it was 49 pages long.  The financial cost to my HMO?  A total of $28,506 – all caused by a doctor who was never held accountable.

But even more serious than the cost was the falsification of my hospital records.  Almost all of the specialists whitewashed the rest of my records.  I had a case, but hiring the 6 medical experts to support it proved too costly.  So “frivolous lawsuits” sounds more like an oxymoron to me than the reality of medical “errors”.