One of the most difficult things to contend with in a hospital is that assumption on the part of the staff that because you have lost your gall bladder you have also lost your mind.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
For the last 20 months, I've just been going from one hospital to another.
You know, 97 percent of the time, if you come into a hospital, everything goes well. But three percent of the time, we have major complications.
Often doctors didn't even tell you what was wrong with you. They just treated you, and sent you home.
Too often, hospital staff are incented by management to get work done without worrying about care, and clinicians are too often not even trained to think about care.
They had me on the operating table all day. They looked into my stomach, my gall bladder, they examined everything inside of me. Know what they decided? I need glasses.
I was having these terrible back pains, and then one day in Switzerland, things got very bad. My wife Maryanna called the hotel doctor, but I don't remember any of this, I was out of it. I had an operation, and I was nearly lost.
Even top caliber hospitals cannot escape medical mistakes that sometimes result in irreparable damage to patients.
When you walk through the hospital, you waiver between feeling bad for everyone else and feeling bad for yourself. It's a war of the worlds - the healthy and the sick.
I tended to faint when I saw accident victims in the emergency ward, during surgery, or while drawing blood.
Getting out of the hospital is a lot like resigning from a book club. You're not out of it until the computer says you're out of it.