Canadian Medicare Stories

Health Care Trust or Mistrust?

Single Mom in NB, Canada

Have you ever been let down or frustrated by our health care system? I’d like to share my story with you. It all began when my only child was 15 years old (we’ll call him Bob). I am a single mom, my child is my whole world. He started getting excruciating pain in his lower back. I took him to the doctor who diagnosed him with muscle spasms. He was told to take a muscle relaxant when needed. Well it got so bad that Bob began missing a lot of school because of his pain. We kept going back to our family doctor who repeated the same diagnosis over and over---muscle spasms. I even had an educator suggest that he should be taken to a doctor, as his pain seemed so severe. Gee, why didn’t I think of that?!

One year turns into two—two into three. Bob is now in the twelfth grade. I am still watching him rolling around on the floor and vomiting in pain. Oh yes, and we are still making our frequent trips to the doctor. I will never forget the night he was out walking with his best friend. He had to stop and vomit right in front of other pedestrians, who I’m sure probably thought he was intoxicated or high on drugs. Bob should be doing all the fun things that come with preparing for graduation (the most important milestone in a teen’s life) without worrying about when and where the next attack is going to happen. Graduation came and went. Bob now has a good job, traveling around the province. He is still eating Robaxacet like candy with no relief. Finally he had to give up his job and return home.

This is when our angel doctor (that’s my name for him) enters the picture. We go to our family doctor who has a student doctor working with him for a while. When this stranger enters the room I inform him that we should probably see our regular doctor, as this issue has been ongoing. He says he would like to hear about our story if we didn’t mind. I thought what the heck, we have nothing to lose. He asks Bob to point to where he is having the pain and says, “that’s your kidney” without skipping a beat. He asks if Bob has ever had an ultrasound on his kidneys. I’m sure my lower jaw is resting on my chest at this point. What a shock, why hadn’t our regular doctor ever suggested this? How many times had Bob pointed to that exact same area in his lower back that this doctor picked up on immediately?

Bob is now having his ultrasound, and I am peeking over the technician’s shoulder at the screen. One kidney looked totally different than the other (it actually looked full of rocks or something). At this point I’m almost beginning to hyperventilate. The first thing that comes to your mind is tumors. They asked me to bring Bob back that night. They were calling in a team after hours to do more testing on him. I am sitting in the waiting room shaking with fear of what I was going to be told. Bob’s kidney was shutting down. How could this happen I thought? Didn’t I do everything I was supposed to do to protect my son?

Everything kind of turned into a blur at that point. We went to see an urologist and surgery was performed shortly after. My mother and I waited, absolutely terrified, while a
five-hour surgery turned into a seven and a half hour, extremely delicate surgery. It turns out they weren’t tumors after all. The tube going into his bladder had a vein and an artery wrapped around it, literally strangling his kidney. Something neither urologist had ever seen or heard of in all their years of experience. They even took pictures of it, Bob may have made medical history! They had to literally cut the vein and artery, put them in the correct position and reattach them. I was told after of how delicate a procedure it had been. Since there was an artery involved, it could have been a big bleed. Wow, this was sure a far cry from muscle spasms I thought. He had a lengthy, and very painful stay in hospital. He was cut from one side to the other. When I see that scar now it gives me shivers with the thought of what could have happened. My whole world could have ended that day. I am forever grateful to the amazing medical team that saved my son’s life. They successfully performed a surgery of which they had never performed, nor even heard of before. Bravo to you all!!!

My mother later told me she had prayed to God the night before our fateful visit to our angle doctor. She prayed that we would finally find out what was really wrong with Bob. Her prayers, through the guidance of a very special doctor were answered.

Bob is now 23 years old and doing great. He has never had one single attack since the surgery. He is working and living on his own, a productive member of society. I guess the lesson I learned in all this is to never put all your trust in one medical professional. Get a second opinion. I sometimes wonder if being a single parent didn’t play a role in this. I felt as though people just weren’t listening, like I wasn’t being taken seriously. If I had had a significant other to put his foot down and insist on action, would Bob have had to endure the three years that he did? If it doesn’t feel right, move on and never give up the fight to get to the bottom of it.