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Random, self-promoting thoughts by author Roslyn Carrington, aka Simona Taylor

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Location: Trinidad & Tobago

I write literary novels under my real name, Roslyn Carrington, and wayyy too hot Arabesque romance novels under the pen name Simona Taylor. I live in Trinidad with my partner, Rawle, and our toddlers, Riley and Megan. Ah, the pleasures and pressures of being parents to those two! There’s also my full-time Public Relations job, the aquarium full of albino sharks, the dog, the garden, the obsession with cooking (the more fattening the dish, the better), the addiction to the comic art by the likes of Keith Knight and Aaron McGruder, and the chocolate compulsion. I fill whatever time I have left dreaming about romance and writing.

Monday, November 13, 2006

Where's the medical morality?

Crabby today. Having a spot of medical bother, so of course I have begun the ritual of dancing through the hoops while doctors play the tune. And I'm not enjoying it.

More and more I ask myself: where's the medical morality? Whatever happened to relating to your patient, whatever happened to truly wanting to help, and hatever happened to practicing with a conscience?

My cutie doctor has referred me to a specialist. Okay, no probs. Only he's on the other side of the island, so to get there for my 9 am appointment I'm on the road at 6:30 a.m. this morning. I get there and, wonder of wonders, I don't have to wait. And then what happens? This guy sees me for 3 minutes tops, just long enough to peep at my doctors referral letter and write out a request for an ultrasound. Then he sends me packing, with an instruction to come back Friday. That'll be $200 Ma'am, thank you very much. For THREE minutes work in which he lays not a hand on my and barely asks me a question. Talk about being dis-MISSED. (NB $1 US = $6TT)

So I trot into the city for my ultrasound. During the test I make a mistake (How was I supposed to know what to do? I'm not a medical worker). And have to deal with the sarcasm, irritation and plain old churlishness of the doctor administering the test. I leave with my tail between my legs feeling small and stupid. That'll be $400, please, Ma'am, thank you very much.

The medical fraternity in this country is one huge grinding money machine, and God help you if you don't have enough money to pay. If you wind up at the mercy of the public health system, cross yourself and start to pray.

Why must it cost so much to stay healthy? Why must health care be such a chore? Why must I pay $200 for you to see me for 3 minutes, and then another $200 for you to decide what's the next step?

I had a baby 3 years ago, and my OB-GYN charged $2,500 to pull the kid out of me. 25 months later, he charges $4,000 for my second kid. I'm still reeling. Why the steep price increase? Same doctor, same patient, same hospital, same delivery method, same service, same healthy pregnancy and delivery. Same damn vagina. WHAT CHANGED?

Cost of living went up? Did the Benz need tyres? Did he want to take his wife to St. Vincent for the weekend? Did he just feel he was worth more, or did the entire gynecological cohort just get together and decide they were charging more for their service?

I understand that you went to school for longer than I did. I understand that you are charging for your knowledge, experience and expertise. I understand that your service is valuable. But when you charge these kinds of fees, you force more and more people to rely on the cursed, stinking farce that is public health. I can barely afford all this, and I have a good job and insurance. What happens to people who have nothing?

They die, that's what.

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