Everyone Needs an Advocate - Some of Us More than Others

I’m about to embark on a week of enforced solitude – holed up with my laptop in a hotel room in another state. It helps if I think of it as a writer’s retreat, or a residency, but it’s not. By the time this arrives in your inbox, I will be on a plane heading back to Nashville.

Picture of Broadway Street in downtown from my trip to Nashville last month.

It’s not my health carrying me across the country. This time, it’s my father. He’s in the hospital, in rough shape. I’m going to be his advocate and ensure he receives proper medical care and attention.

Through my years of medical adventures – it’s been 21 years since I first crashed into heart failure and my tour de force of the medical system – I’ve learned that you need to have someone there to advocate on your behalf. Many times, I have found myself taken less seriously when I have gone to doctor appointments alone or gone to the Emergency Room by myself. Although they will never admit it, I think overworked medical staff harbor an unconscious bias that says, “If nobody cares enough about you to be here with you, why should I care about you now?”

I believe this is especially true if you are a woman, disabled, or an elderly person.

Going to the ER as a woman is a lot like shopping for a car. If you bring a man with you, you’re more likely to be taken seriously and given better treatment.

Over the past year, my father has been in and out of the hospital as his health has continued to decline. At each successive hospital, they treated him for his emergent symptoms then turfed him back to the curb. A few times he was admitted until his condition stabilized, but nobody ever bothered to look for the underlying cause of his illness. Just patch him up and ship him out. Tell him to see his regular doctor, which, through the Veteran’s Administration, could take months to get an appointment.

Hopefully I can get someone to listen and take the time to investigate his underlying illness. I know the medical jargon and can explain things to him as well as advocate for appropriate care.

This coming week could be busy or boring. I’m not sure if I will spend more time sitting next to my father’s bed as he sleeps or negotiating with doctors and social workers. Either way, I’m prepared for battle.

Wish me luck.