It didn't happen.
Claire has severe anxiety attacks about medical procedures, requiring a xanex and a couple of days of preparing herself mentally to just get blood drawn.
The surgeon and anesthesiologist both reassured us that she would be treated with consideration (trans) and treated for anxiety - by having a dose of versed waiting for her when she walked in the door. I warned them both that if they made her wait a few minutes sitting around the panic attack would happen.
So... we got there, and Claire has dry heaves and is terrified to leave the parking garage, when an orderly saw us and asked if we needed an assist. I said we did and he helped coax her in. She made it through the ER, to the 7th floor, and to admitting, where the orderly TOLD the nurse there that the patient was in distress and he had to help us in. I informed her that this was the panic attack patient, and we were supposed to have a pill ready for us for her to take immediately so she could calm down before going to pre-op, and one that would be enough to get IV and everything started.
Well, we got attitude. "I'm not HIS nurse". A call to the real nurse, and a summons to follow down the hall, where we passed people sleeping (pre-op prepped) and were put into a PRE-OP room with an IV stand and a bed, had a gown and slippers tossed onto the bed and were told "everything off, gown on".
I stormed out and demanded that someone get the damn pill. I was told that "they didn't have the chart" and "knew nothing about any pill". I warned them that they would blow the surgery if they didn't get the doc on the phone and medicate her asap.
I went back to claire, trying to get her to focus her breathing, but after 2 minutes went back out only to find neither nurse on the phone or getting a chart. I asked what the holdup was and was told to be patient because they were going to have to "walk across the street and get it".
Back and forth 3 more times. On the last time, I went back to the pre op room (room 13 by the way - big ass 13 printed on the wall) only to find Claire *gone*.
I went out and told the nurse that they were too damn late (15 minutes now had passed) and that she was gone. The nurse's response? "who's 'she'?"
I would have punched her had I not been terrified that Claire was lying in shock in some hallway somewhere. I said "Claire, the HIGH ANXIETY patient that I TOLD you we were running out of time on".
"So he's gone?"
Had it. Pissed off beyond belief. Went tearing out of the building, couldn't find her. Told security that a patient having a panic attack was wandering around somewhere. Finally found her outside the ER building, across the street, sitting on a low wall almost catatonic.
Called my mom, who got a cab and came over. A nurse finally came down (30 minutes after the fact) and said that they had the pill ready now, but she had to go back upstairs to take it. Claire was way past responding. We begged and pleaded, but nothing would get her back in there.
So, basically, Claire has been beating herself up all day and crying uncontrollably at her "failure". Our daughter, here on emergency leave from Iraq, is in trouble with her paperwork.
And me? I'm so fucking pissed off at a hospital that we were assured would be prepared for a patient diagnosed with panic disorder. And to add in the anti-trans stuff to boot, really, really pissed me off.
I'm exhausted, had 3 hours of sleep last night, so forgive the rant, please.