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METAFORIX MAIL Volume 1, Issue 15 October 26, 2000 CONTENTS AT A GLANCE: ON MY MIND: ER
ON MY MIND [From the Editor] ER After suspicious symptoms had kept me awake all night, I visited my doctor who (1)performed an examination, (2)took an EKG, and (3)sent me to the hospital to undergo tests and await a visit from a cardiologist. Hooked to a monitor and largely ignored after the initial tests proved negative, moved periodically from one curtained cubicle to another, I got a very disturbing earful. For example: We may think it is possible to safeguard medical privacy on the Internet -- but in the ER? Forget about it! I may not have seen their faces, but I learned the names, ages, addresses, and detailed medical histories of at least four strangers over the course of the day. These people live or work in my community. If we ever crossed paths, it would be hard not to connect the information to the person. In the past, when I've visited emergency rooms with children and elderly parents and injured friends, I've found the staff generally pleasant and compassionate, no matter how busy the day and how difficult the patient. This time, I overheard exchanges that ranged from merely rude to genuinely shocking: An elderly woman, apparently suffering from cardiac symptoms as well as dementia, was resisting the tubes, needles, and electrodes being forced upon her. For what seemed like hours, the male nurse in charge of her care shouted at her continuously, addressing her as "Honey," scolding her as though she were a child, and threatening to restrain her arms. He offered not a word of reassurance or consolation. There's no doubt I would have heard it if he had. Until the end of his shift, he griped about the patient loudly and insultingly, for all and sundry to hear. Another elderly woman in a corner cubicle was uncomfortable in her bed and wanted a pillow. A female nurse's aide explained impatiently that there were no more pillows to be had, but perhaps there would be more later. After several minutes, the woman began to moan quietly but persistently, "Nurse! Nurse!" A nurse finally appeared, only to rebuke her. "Don't keep crying Nurse! Nurse!" she complained. "I can't stand it!" The woman was silent momentarily, in what I took to be astonishment. "You can't stand it?" she repeated. "Yes," said the nurse. "I can't stand it. It's too much pressure." A man whose questions had been persistently ignored finally got out of bed and demanded to see a supervisor. "Why?" asked the very pressured nurse. "I need a toothbrush." "Absolutely not!" she replied haughtily. "I refuse to call the supervisor for a reason like that!" Another man, who seemed to speak almost no English, kept calling out "Excuse me, excuse me!" in a heavy Eastern European accent. When a staff member finally responded, he asked for his wife, who had initially accompanied him to the ER and served as his interpreter. He was refused. All this, before the cardiologist arrived to see me at about 7:00 p.m., just as I was to be moved to a room for the night. Apologizing for the emergency that had kept her from arriving sooner, she examined both me and my chart. Because she felt almost certain that my heart had suffered no damage, she offered me the option of staying over night for more tests the next day, or going home and returning for tests at her office. Naturally, I chose to sleep in my own bed. On the way home, my husband described a horrifying incident he had witnessed in the waiting room. Two men who seemed to be restaurant workers rushed in. One of them, apparently in shock, had one hand wrapped in a towel, along with his severed finger. His companion described the kitchen accident that had brought them to the hospital and the two were asked to wait. After what seemed like an eternity, during which the injured man smiled silently, the companion lost his composure and began screaming for immediate attention. His friend was finally taken into the ER. He sat down, head in hand, and wept. Oh, yes. Apart from questions about how a respected healthcare facility could become so dysfunctional, how a hospital staff could display such indifference, and what could possibly be done to remedy the situation, this story does have a punchline. About privacy. The following day, as the cardiologist began to examine me, she was interrupted by her beeping pager. After responding to the call, she apologized. "I hate to speak badly of another patient. But I only met this man at 3:00 yesterday afternoon. In fact, I was with him until I visited you. Since that time, he has been paging me constantly, throughout the night, and has had all of his physicians phone me as well." "How old is he?" I asked, wondering if this were a frail, frightened, elderly man. "He's 44," the doctor replied. And immediately, I knew exactly who he was: name, address, medical history, and how he had come to be in the ER. I also had an impression of his personal quirks and pecadillos, the kind of instant take that forms when you overhear a conversation that you're trying desperately not to listen to. This demanding patient and I had been lying inches apart, separated only by a curtain, while his history was taken. Privacy? Forget about it! Cordially, Lois C. Ambash, Editor
IN THE MEDIA [a recent news article, feature, or opinion piece] As American
as the Big Apple I'm happy to report, however, that the Newshour on PBS gets it. And not only that, they know how to translate the rivalry into more universal American terms. Last week, Ray Suarez hosted a debate, a la Bush and Gore, between Roger Rosenblatt, a died-in-the-wool Yankee, and John Leo, a Mets fan par excellence. Call it partisanship, call it parody, but don't miss it. If your computer can handle the streaming video, let it stream. Otherwise, read the transcript. Either way, enjoy. To read the
full article, go to: INFORMATICON "The truth is that our stated commitment to safety, our faithful enactment of the rituals of disaster, has always masked a certain hypocrisy. We don't really want the safest of all possible worlds. The national fifty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit probably saved more lives than any other single government intervention of the past [30] years. But the fact that Congress lifted it . . . with a minimum of argument proves that we would rather consume the recent safety advances of things like seat belts and air bags than save them. "The same is true of the dramatic improvements that have been made in recent years in the design of aircraft and flight-navigation systems. Presumably, these innovations could be used to bring down the airline-accident rate as low as possible. But that is not what consumers want. They want air travel to be cheaper, more reliable, or more convenient, and so those safety advances have been at least partly consumed by flying and landing planes in worse weather and heavier traffic conditions. What accidents like the Challenger [disaster] should teach us is that we have constructed a world in which the potential for high-tech catastrophe is embedded in the fabric of day-to-day life. At some point in the future-for the most mundane of reasons, and with the very best of intentions-a NASA spacecraft will again go down in flames. We should at least admit this to ourselves now. And if we cannot-if the possibility is too much to bear-then our only option is to start thinking about getting rid of things like space shuttles altogether." Malcolm Gladwell, The New Yorker, June 3, 1996 CYBERSPEAK [the vocabulary of the Internet age] Last week, we discussed cybersquatting, "the act of registering a popular Internet address -- usually a company name -- with the intent of selling it to its rightful owner." We noted that a variation on this tactic is to register common misspellings of a popular Web address, with the same financial intent in mind. Lo and behold. This variation has acquired a name of its own: TYPOSQUATTING. According to Robert Cumbow, chairman of the intellectual property practice at the Seattle law firm Graham & Dunn, "the truly enterprising typosquatters will concentrate on the domain names that yield them the best return for the least trouble." He advises clients to start by sending a "cease and desist letter demanding that the owner of the misspelled domain name discontinue using it." That alone will often convince the cybersquatter to relinquish the name. If not, the next step is to file a complaint with WIPO (the World Intellectual Property Organization) or ICANN (the Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers. Reference consulted: Techweb.com SITE OF THE DAY [a nice place to visit] Dear Marketer . In addition to form letters and links to companies that allow consumers to opt out online, CDT provides up-to-date information about online profiling practices. You can also sign up to receive ongoing alerts on how to protect your privacy on the Internet. To visit this site, go to: Please note that the links contained in Metaforix Mail are current as of the time of publication. Some of them may no longer be operative at the time you access past issues. To
Volume 1, Issue 14
October 19, 2000 |
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