A Deer in Headlights

I am like a deer in headlights. An impending crash is about to happen and I don’t know what to do.

I have until the end of March to file a case, but I still have nothing to work with.  At the beginning of February, I sent Ruth’s medical records to an oncologist who said she would review the case, for a fee.  I still haven’t gotten anything from the oncologist who is supposed to determine the “proper prognosis.”  This is, by the way, the first time an oncologist would have seen anything pertaining to Ruth, even though the autopsy said she had stage 4 lymphoma.  But so far, I have nothing from the oncologist, even though I have called (and only left messages) six times since then.  Not even a courtesy return call.

Out of six lawyers I called (not even consulted) only one said he would consider the case– if the prognosis was that, if the lymphoma had been caught in time, she would have had a 51% chance of living longer.  There is that possibility, from medical information I researched, and I needed a professional, i.e. an oncologist (not just any physician) to determine this for a case.

I have had runarounds from every professional in the book in regards to Ruth’s death.  I am very frustrated by the professionalism in this country.  The worst offender is the medical corporation that “treated” Ruth;.  Every seems something out of a John Le Carre novel, but unfortunately, this one is real.  I wish I could honor Ruth like the Constant Gardener, but it seems I can’t even do that.  And when March expires, nothing would have been done medically to honor the person that Ruth was.

Perhaps it’s too little too late, but any thoughts of what to do in three weeks is greatly appreciated.

1 comments

    • Erin on March 8, 2011 at 5:45 am
    • Reply

    Thuan,
    First, a thought. I have been thinking about calling you or emailing you regarding a little snippet of a meeting I had the other day. We were discussing the (lack of/need for) spiritual formation of students. One prof, Rob Johnston, commented that the program worked at North Park for one simple reason: the person leading it was considered by everyone to be a saint, a holy person. Of course, I realized that we had lost our saint in Ruth. It made me miss her in new ways; there are not many people who qualify for such an appellation across disciplines, traditions, personalities. But she did.

    On your note about lymphoma: I completely see why the oncologist is the one you need for this aspect of the case. I also wonder what your hope would have been, if they had diagnosed her earlier. I know what mine was for her and for you (at least, as best I can articulate it now). I wish you had known that she was so sick, that she had known that she was so sick, and that you could have planned these last months (or longer) with that end in mind. I have no doubt that Ruth faced death with “dignity” as the saying goes. For her, that meant an attitude toward life of trust in the power of love to make things right. Even death.

    One of my greatest sorrows and lasting prayers for you and Sreymol is a slow recovery from what seems to be almost post traumatic shock. If someone had caught this illness, you would have had time to process your options, say your goodbyes. That made her death, esp entrusted to a supposedly competent and trusted medical staff, more traumatic for everyone.

    If Ruth could have had more time, if she had had treatments, what effect do you think that would have had on you and on her and on Sreymol? This is what I wonder, regardless of how much time was purchased through medicine or even if she were able to go on for years. What do you think the missed diagnosis cost you all, so to speak?

    And of course this is what the medical system cannot offer you or address very well, as it is set up for litigiousness but not for relationships (including admission of mistakes), as John M. has noted repeatedly. It does not know how to measure such things.

    As for practical stuff: I don’t know a good oncologist who could review this case for you. You are doing all you can, it seems to me. The way the system is set up does not afford you other avenues. If this fails, then you/we will continue to figure out how to honor Ruth and her memory. (I was speaking to a student in my class from the UK. They are encouraged to apologize immediately to the family if there is an error. It is a very different system, and, I suspect, more humane for survivors of situations like Ruth’s.)

    I am so sorry this continues to be difficult, Thuan, on top of sheer grief. I think of all of you often. Ruth continues to reside in my mind, my soul, and I am reminded of how often you must miss her, how deeply. I continue to pray for you.

    Please give my love to Sreymol. I will wait to hear regarding the oncologist.

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