Medical Mixups

Photo by Sasun Bughdaryan on Unsplash

The title may foreshadow bad things. but in life, usually things aren't as bad as they look, right?

So let's see.

It must have been the mid-1990s. I had a job and moved into my own apartment, while my baby brother still lived with my parents, so I don't know the details.

Fact was he found it increasingly hard to walk. His legs felt wobbly, and he couldn't control them, and one day he just collapsed.

Turned out there was a mass pressing on his corticospinal tract, which is supposed to control movement of the limbs and the trunk. 

I visited him at the hospital after the mass was surgically removed. It was my first time at an ICU, and it was scary. So many tubes and monitors, and my brother was high on drugs.

A day or so later I was at my parents' for dinner, and I could tell they were preoccupied. They had just gotten a phone call from the hospital. The mass had been sent to the pathology lab, and it was determined it was malignant. While the doctors were confident the entire tumor was removed, as a precaution, they scheduled radiation therapy for my brother.

Sh**

However, shortly thereafter, there was another phone call from another person at the hospital. They were pleased to tell us that everything was fine, it was a benign mass, and my brother was expected to make a full recovery.

We didn't dare to exhale. 

Were they sure this time?

The good news was later confirmed, and a few days later we all resumed our lives.

My brother's plans had been to move to Israel as soon as he was done with his apprenticeship, and his paperwork was in order.

For context, my Mom was born and raised in Israel. Her parents were Jewish fugitives from Germany, respectively Austria. When she was eleven years old, my Granddad accepted a job offer in Switzerland, and that's how she ended up here.

By the time my brother was ready to leave, he was older than his peers in the army, so he only had to serve two, instead of three years. 

However, prior to being accepted, they asked for a medical report on his condition. Fact was, the Swiss Army had rejected him.

Our GP issued said report. 

In German.

"Not a problem, my daughter speaks English, she'll translate." My Mom said.

When I saw the document, I almost fainted. There were barely any regular German words. It was either Latin or very formal, medical expressions. 

Remember, it was the 1990s. No Google translate and the like. When I started my job, there wasn't even a PC. I used a typewriter, a fax machine and a landline phone to do my job.

I called the hospital close to where I worked at the time and asked if they had a medical dictionary they were willing to let me use, and after work, I got the hospital's library area and told the person I had an appointment.

She looked at me confused. "Who are you, and what is it that you need?"

I told her.

She couldn't seem to shake her confusion.

"I apologize, what is your name again?"

Stutz (my maiden name)

"But you don't work here?"

I never claimed I did. I'm just here to translate a medical document 

"Oh my goodness, now I get it. You are not Dr Stutz from gynaecology?"

Nope. 

"You know, the library is for our doctors only. The person who allowed you to come here must have thought you were an Attending."

We agreed that today the library was for me as well, and I got to work.

So after two medical mixups, my brother was cleared to join the Israeli Army, which was a requirement to apply for citizenship, and he was very happy about it.

Me (and my Granddad) not so much. But that's a story for another day. Fact is my brother is still there. He is married to a local lady, and they have three kids, 22, 20 and 16, and two dogs. 

All is well that ends well.

Have you ever been involved in a medical mixup?