We used to have three very good hospitals — Southern Nevada Hospital, which is now University Medical Center or UMC, Sunrise Hospital and Women’s Hospital.
During those good years we could beep our doctors after office hours or simply call his or her answering service and in no time at all the doctor was returning our call. Also, in years past, doctors were called “doctors,” now they are called providers. I wonder what it is that they provide, because good service is not it.
Pharmacists were very knowledgeable and you could ask them any question to receive a good answer to your problems or concerns.
You are under a “provider’s” care and find yourself in a situation where you must communicate with that person, for any reason whatsoever. The provider lists a telephone number on his or her business card that is NOT a number to contact that person directly, or if not directly, even to a secretary or a nurse. A person who knows nothing about medicine, speaking with an accent that definitely is not English and is also very difficult to understand, confuses you by asking what color underwear you have on (so to speak). That person then tells you that they will send an email to the provider and that somebody from his or her office will contact you within a 24- to
In the meantime you are left to suffer with a problem for which they cannot “provide” a solution.
If you encounter a problem with a medication, what do they tell you?
“If you have an adverse reaction to this medication, contact your provider or your pharmacist immediately, or go to emergency care.”
Yeah, right! The provider is not providing any service and probably the email was lost in transit, the pharmacist who normally knows much less than you do, tells you: “I don’t know; you need to contact your provider.” And the providers at emergency care usually keep you there for two to three hours just to bill the insurance company and at the end, what do they tell you? “Contact your primary provider for a follow up.” To follow up what? you may ask.
If you go to the hospital emergency room looking like someone has beaten you to death, they don’t ask you, “What seems to be the problem?” The first thing coming out of their mouth is “Insurance card
and identification.” After they have a photocopy of your driver’s license or whatever form of identification you have presented, if you are lucky enough, they probably ask you what your problem is.
Otherwise, they just tell you to sit down and wait.
I would like to know the story behind having your identification photocopied. With all the problems we now face with identity theft, in reality I don’t know who that person behind the counter is. I don’t know if she would pass my information on to her boyfriend, husband, lover or neighbor for questionable purposes.
Today, we have hospitals almost in every corner of the city; some of those hospitals need to be watched closely. If you happen to have a relative spending a few days in one of them, be prepared to spend the night with your relative because the night shift, thinking a family member would not be there, will treat patients like animals.
I also wonder where all our doctors have gone. If you look around nowadays all medical personnel are from all over the world. If you find someone born and raised in this country, the first thing you want
to scream is Hallelujah!
I hear people saying, proudly, how much Las Vegas has grown. It sure has, but our city has not grown for the better. I miss my old Las Vegas where in some sense we almost knew everybody. Today, I don’t
even know who my next-door neighbor is.
The problem is not only with the medical field; everything here is different. I still remember when I was younger, driving up and down Las Vegas Blvd. or any other place in the city, and my mother never worried for my safety because we lived in a safe city where everybody watched out for each other.
Las Vegas is not a safe city any more for boys or girls, men or women.
My good friend Liz Gini always said: “Remember, boys — 15 can get you 20” (referring to the number of young women coming here from other countries looking for a “good” time where nobody knows them, and the minute they don’t get what they are looking for — $$$ — the first thing they yell is RAPE).
Later, they return for an additional “good time” with a group of friends in tow, compliments of Clark County taxpayers.
Stay tuned. I will tell you the story in just a couple of weeks. Oh! How I miss my old Las Vegas.
Perly Viasmensky is the General Manager of the Las Vegas Tribune. She writes a weekly column in this newspaper. To contact Perly Viasmensky, email her at pviasmensky@lasvegas tribune.com.