Trigger Warning: discussion of physical illness, descriptions of being sick.

From a young age I was quite sickly.

I survived Whopping Cough at 10 months. Pneumonia at around 2-3 years old.

When puberty kicked in I started showing signs of reproductive organ issues and I’ve been in and out of hospital ever since.

When you’re chronically ill or suffering from a mixed bag of diagnosis, no doubt you will have a trail of horrific experiences alongside your foot steps.

I’ve been medically neglected, gaslit, assaulted and overall traumatized by the medical system.

I missed last weeks post because I experienced yet another instance of medical neglect at the hands of STARs (Surgical Treatment and Rehabilitation service), a Royal Brisbane and Women’s Hospital affiliated clinic.

I was scheduled for an MRI, and told to simply be there by 9:45am.

I’m going to break down what happened next, and how lazy, neglectful conduct resulted in one of the worst episodes of sickness I have ever experienced.

The Procedure

I’m chronically ill and have a number of pre-existing diagnosis, last year I had a colonoscopy to check my bowel for issues at the request of an old doctor. The colonoscopy didn’t reveal much except for a difficulty processing lactose sugars and some inflammation found in my small bowel, for which they took a biopsy to be careful.

With a lack of definitive answers from the biopsy the gastroenterologist requested an MRI, above is a screenshot of the message I received before my scheduled appointment, which is all the information I had for this procedure.

When you have issues like me, you’re never actually feeling well on any given day, and some days are more symptomatic than others.

The morning of my appointment I had run out of my medication, one of which was Nexium which I use to manage reflux. Without it, my reflux was going wild.

So I was nauseated and my throat was a bit raw.

I considered calling and cancelling the appointment, however I knew if I did I would face so much scrutiny over the phone from the reception and that my gastro would be annoyed that I missed yet another appointment set up for me.

They had only specified coming in by 9:45am for an MRI, so I figured, its just a scan it will probably be over in 15 minutes.

I can probably get through that fine.

At reception they gave me a form to fill out and asked me if I knew what I was having, I said I’m pretty sure its an MRI, and had a seat.

Nurses called me through and sat me in a chair, went over my answers to any history of surgeries and whether I had any permanent devices in my body or any implants of any kind, advised me I would have to take off my body jewellery and I told them about my permanent retainer on the back of my teeth.

It was then that they told me that I would need to sip on the contrast for around an hour.

I had to stop them there and ask what they meant, to which they explained I would have to drink a liter of a contrast concoction over the course of an hour before I went in for the scan.

I expressed hesitance and said that I had a slight memory of having one of these done as a child and that I remembered the liquid being fowl and very difficult for me to drink.

They assured me it was not that bad, all I had to do was take little sips and if I felt sick I could stop.

I felt so locked in already, while I was worried about it they seemed confident I would be fine and I was so anxious about saying no.

They informed me I would have to have an injection of Buscopan, asked me if I had taken it before and I said I was not sure. They told me I would also have an injection of contrast.

Then they showed me to the change room where I had to get into robes, when I came out they sat me in the main area of the whole room and put the jug of putrid liquid next to me.

People were being wheeled in and out and getting their scan details and being spoken to by others and I was just sitting there trying to drink this very obvious liquid with everyone just watching me.

The whole situation had me in a panic so I couldn’t stop myself from crying and gagging trying to drink this stuff.

Not only did it taste just as bad as I expected, but it was slightly thick like a syrup and the second I started drinking it I began to feel my stomach spasming and cramping. I instantly started feeling much worse.

And I felt so exposed and vulnerable.

I got my canular in, was told to swig one last cup of contrast and they would put me through.

It was now 11:15, and I had arrived at 9:45am.

One nurse told me going to the bathroom was fine, the other told me not to empty my bowels.

I knew if I didn’t go I would not be able to stop myself in the scan, and in that bathroom I experienced the first insane diarrhea of the day.

When I came out they were ushering me through.

I had to lie on my stomach which was excruciating but they said it was the best way for them to see and I did not want to have to come back and do all this again.

I didn’t tell them what had happened in the bathroom and just hoped it would all work out.

I hadn’t even managed to finish the whole liter of contrast anyway.

The pillow they had my head on was suffocating but I could not find any other position where it worked any better so I accepted it.

I felt crazy sick when the Buscopan went through, dizzy and like I was going to pass out.

They put something really heavy on my back and it still hurts from where it was resting.

The contrast went through next and I felt suddenly so cold even with the blankets on.

I could still feel my stomach churning and threw up in my mouth as they walked out of the room.

The process required me to do breathing exercises, and I feel like I barely got any of them accurate, I found it crazy difficult to hold my breath while lying on my front with my head stuffed in a pillow and all kinds of things on me.

I was stiff the whole time, 15 minutes later when it was over it was excruciating to get up off the table and despite being told to sit for as long as I needed to, there were others waiting in sight of me to use the scanner and I felt pressured to get up before I was ready.

I felt terrible, so so so much worse.

I was shaky and sweaty but cold as I put my clothes back on.

When I came out I sat in the chair to get my canular out as requested.

The nurse came over and said “What do you need” as if I was in the wrong spot and I told her I needed the needle out.

She said “Well you managed!” as she was taking my needle out.

I told her I was feeling so much worse, very sick, and I asked her if I should look out for any adverse reactions or side effects and what to do.

She told me the contrast they used was the best and had the least issues with people but if I felt itchy or rashy to take an antihistamine and rest.

Then with my needle out, she ushered me out of the room and back into the reception of medical imaging.

The Adverse Reaction

I sat outside crying for a while, I was having trouble looking at my phone screen to book my uber. I found my way outside, still shaking and wrapping my shawl around me close, feeling all the sweat in my hair.

Finally in my uber I thought it would all be over, we began moving and all I felt was a little hot.

Then I felt it, the horrifying realisation that the nausea is no longer just a feeling, I was going to puke, and there was very little I could do to stop it.

I looked to the driver about to ask him to pull over, when suddenly he enters the Clem Jones Tunnel and my heart sinks.

Ok, breathe, we can get through this.

I take out my shawl and bundle it like a bowl, at first just holding it to my face.

I can’t get the driver to pull over safely and saying anything is just going to make him panic.

I breathe and do all the techniques I’ve learned over the years on how not to throw up in a car.

But it was all over the second it started.

This was no normal vomiting, this was projectile vomiting.

Within second I was covered in my own vomit and convulsing with the power of each puke. The driver, alerted by the sound I made, asked if I needed to be taken back to hospital.

All I could do was keep puking.

We exit the tunnel and it finally stops, I’m profusely apologizing, I roll down the window to get some air, and try to stay calm. This has never ever happened to me before in an uber.

I was so ashamed.

Once inside the house, I burst into a full blown meltdown.

Practically ripping the soiled clothes off my body in the entry way of the house, I threw everything I had except my phone on the ground at the foot of the stairs and crawled to the top.

I called my housemate and begged him to come home, scared of what was happening to me and what I needed to do.

I’m very lucky he was able to, and that he managed to get my medication on his way home.

I had a bath, tried to compose myself.

After drying off and getting changed, I threw up all over again.

The projectile vomiting continued through the night, only sleeping in 20 minute to an hour intervals before it would start up again.

I couldn’t keep down soda or water, I didn’t dare eat.

It continued all Friday until around 6pm but the violent diarrhea and nausea remained.

I was finally able to start eating again, small amounts.

My throat became completely raw from the bile I was throwing up, my whole body aches from the spasm, cramps and contortions I went through. It feels like I’m bruised all over, like I have been running for my life, like I was poisoned.

I wasn’t able to leave the bed except to go to my doctor on the Monday night.

You might be thinking, oh my goodness this is an allergic reaction or a drug interaction gone wrong or something. These were exactly my thoughts.

Was the contrast expired?

Did they fail to consider the medication I was on? They never asked me about it to begin with.

Was I allergic to buscopan?

What if this happens to someone else?

What went wrong?

Which is why I called them and requested immediate help understanding my experience, on the Friday after my scan.

But that did not go very well.

Seeking Help and Filing a Complaint

I called the place where my booking had come from, and told them I needed to speak to someone about my MRI because I was experiencing some kind of extreme adverse reaction to something they gave me and needed to know what.

I was put through to a radiologist, not the same one who did my scan, who asked me what I needed.

I explained what I had told reception, I gave him an account of everything that had happened, included that the nurses had not warned me of anything like this after I explicitly asked them about adverse reactions.

He said “So you said you were feeling unwell before the appointment, my guess is that was just amplified.”

I explained “well no, had I not come in at all this would not have happened to me.”

He said looking at my scan it was all still in my stomach so that’s what I would have thrown up.

I asked him if he was saying it should not have been in my stomach, if I should have sat longer, if I drank it too fast or something.

He told me what the purpose of the contrast drink was which I already knew.

Then he mansplained how things pass through the gut and out the small bowel.

I explained that I specifically asked about adverse reactions to the nurse and was told nothing, that I was requested to come in for this scan with no knowledge of having to drink anything or be there for over 15 minutes. I told him no one had asked me about the medication I was on, was it maybe a drug interaction gone wrong?

He said well most people don’t react this way, you’ve just had a poor response.

It was then that I said, “Well if that’s all you have to say I’m going to have to make a complaint.” I heard him attempt to explain it all again before feeling a surge of nausea and hanging up.

I felt completely and utterly dismissed.

Am I going crazy?

I wrote a complaint in the official complaints and feedback section of their website and submitted it after puking again and composing myself.

It was then that I was called by a woman who I assume came from the complaints department but who did not specify.

She mentioned that they had called to check on me after my call with the radiologist to make sure I was ok and offer any assistance they could.

I explained that I was very much not ok, I was incredibly sick and in a huge amount of pain and my life had been upended because of this scan.

She said in a somewhat defeated voice “Well what do you want me to do?”

I requested the names of everything I was given during the scan, seems like something I should have been given a copy of when I left.

After that I gave her the names of the medication I was on and the dosage so she could check if anything would interfere with those medications. Another thing I wanted to address with the radiologist.

Then I explained that it had been over 24 hours of vomiting and diarrhea, to which she said “Well in that instance obviously you would seek out medical treatment, so can you make a doctors appointment?”

I told her I already had one scheduled for the Monday.

In truth its a miracle my doctors appointment had lined up with this catastrophe, its not easy to book an appointment these days. Every time I book I need to have at least $200 in my account to cover the initial cost before I get my rebate, and I need to book almost 3 weeks in advance to get a spot with my specific GP.

She then said “well there’s nothing I can do to get this issue pushed over the weekend but I’ll call you back on Monday to see how you are”.

I received one call on Monday when I was asleep, and when I tried to call the number back I got dial tone.

When I saw my doctor and told her what happened she was absolutely flabbergasted.

She couldn’t believe they sent me home like that, she couldn’t believe they didn’t do something about me feeling sick for the scan, that I wasn’t notified about what would be happening until I was physically in the room, and that they did not check my medications with me.

She told me not to drink contrast ever again and that she would be changing my medical documentation to reflect that immediately.

However, when she tried to access my hospital profile, I did not exist.

Any information entered about me showed up nothing.

I was still unwell Tuesday and spent most of the day resting, sleeping, and some of the afternoon writing. Wednesday, after managing to go to therapy and speaking with my therapist about it all, I called the number left in my voicemails and got through to the person in charge of my case.

She asked about how I was and how my GP appointment went, and upon hearing what I had to say told me she would be writing a report and making sure the feedback is received by the people who managed my appointment on the day. She told me she would call me next week about that process.

The Consequence

I remained sick until the Friday, a week after my scan, Friday was the first day I felt I could go outside and eat something from a cafe without fear of repercussions.

Overall though, I feel defeated, neglected and like a giant inconvenience to the people who were meant to assure my safety and wellbeing.

This experience took away my ability to work, my ability to take care of myself and greatly intensified my pelvic pain.

I had plans for the weekend, I wanted to go to the Lifeline Bookfest, but I was too sick to stand.

I had artworks I wanted to knock out, a blog post I had aimed to complete by Friday and publish, all completely halted by my severe condition.

I thought at the very least the medical staff would operate with more urgency and concern for my well being, some curiosity even.

Instead I was told things like “We do this procedure at least 6 times a week and no one reports feeling anything like this.”

Having to tell medical staff “the lack of negative experiences does not negate from the fact that I have experienced this.”

Being regarded as just…weak or sickly?

Seeing no responsibility on their side for anything?

Do I have to record every single interaction?

Shall I learn short hand and transcribe my appointments?

I should not have to bring a lawyer or a camera crew with me when I go to the hospital or a medical appointment, yet my experiences are telling me that’s the extent I must have to go to if I’m to be believed!

Going in for something so routine and having my whole life be consumed by it is terrifying.

I feel fear at the thought of walking through those doors.

I feel like if I go back they might remember me, what if they treat me badly?

I’m a chronically ill, disabled person living just above the poverty line, its so unbelievably unfair to be treated like this by a system that’s meant to help me. That’s meant to be more aware than any other institutions about the complications of health.

Yet it doesn’t consider people like me in their processes.

This is what contributes to medical trauma.

This is why I’m afraid of hospitals, there is a very real risk that if I go inside one I will come out worse off.

I know inside myself that I will not call an ambulance if I’m in a bad way, nor will I ever encourage a friend to call an ambulance for me, because I no longer think they believe me when I say I’m in pain or sick. I don’t deserve to call help only to be cross examined or humiliated.

Why die in hospital if I can die in my own home.

These are the thoughts hospitals need to be aware of.

Doctors need to be aware of.

The whole medical system needs to understand how hard it is for us to seek help, and how unlikely it becomes that we will if you treat us like this.

You may become blind after years of working and becoming numb to it all, that doesn’t give you a free pass to traumatize someone, to assault them, humiliate them, shame them for something they cannot control. Its not a pass for neglect, for laziness, or for poorly designed systems that result in someone being bed ridden for a week.

The actions of all medical staff, including reception and phone lines, have a huge impact on how the patient feels and weather or not they return.

My transport costs were around $50 total for the day, and I still don’t know how much the cleaning fee will cost me. Had I seen my doctor for this alone, I would have around $50 in transport again depending on the time of day, plus $60 out of pocket after $170 is withdrawn for the initial process.

That’s roughly $110, without considering money I would have to spend on medication or supplies depending on the doctors orders.

Being sick racked up around $50 worth of groceries because things are so costly at the moment and I was requesting very specific things because of how sick I was. I’m just lucky my housemate fronted those costs for me.

Being adversely effected by a medical procedure IS EXPENSIVE.

And had I been relying on a job or workplace for money, I would have missed 2 full days of pay for the sheer amount of puking preventing me from leaving the house, and that’s if I wasn’t expected to work weekends.

What if I had dependents? They would have suffered. I would have needed someone to step in.

You can’t do anything if there’s no money left in the bank.

Enough is enough.

Medical staff, you need to remember what a patient’s life is actually like, and that their safety is in your hands the second they walk through that door.

Medical trauma is avoided by listening, being responsive, being professional, and treating people with dignity and respect. Its really not that hard.

You could save someone from never seeking assistance again.

Since I Wrote this article:

There have been a few updates, and there might be more at the weeks progress, I will be updating this field as time passes.

Someone called me on Friday to discuss my official complaint, she claimed to be from the complaints and liaisons department and apologized for what I went through. She said she would call me back later that afternoon, but I did not receive a call. The weekend has passed and it is now Tuesday the 16th of July, and I still have not heard back from her. I will call her myself when I have time.
The woman who seemed to be handling my feedback internally did not call me on Monday like she said she would, I have not heard from them.