What Are Other People Doing?

2 min read

I have sat in a hospital room and known exactly what was happening to me medically.

I have read my own chart. Recognized the medications. Understood the differential. Known which questions to ask and which answers weren't good enough.

And I have still been dismissed.

Still been talked over. Still watched a provider look at my file before they looked at my face.

Still had to fight — calmly, strategically, exhaustingly — for care that should have been the starting point.

I spent nearly a decade in operating rooms. I graduated high school as a CNA. I have studied pharmacology, anatomy, patient advocacy. My partner understands medical billing, compliance, and the EHR systems these practices run on.

And even with all of that — everything I know, with someone sitting next to me who knows exactly where to push — we still had to push back at every single step of a routine urgent care visit last week. The insurance entered backwards. A blanket form that listed services I wasn't receiving. Vitals that were guessed at. A steroid taper I had to correct myself.

I'm not telling you this to complain about one bad visit.

I'm telling you this because if it can happen to me — with everything I know, with someone sitting next to me who knows exactly where to push — what is happening to people who walk in alone?

  • Who trust the process because they've been told to?

  • Who sign the form because they don't know they can say no?


Patient-centered care should be the standard. Not a tagline with no follow-through.

That gap — between what care is supposed to be and what people actually experience — is exactly why I do this work.