Help! Dealing with rib pain – any advice?

😲 Are they actually reading us?
Fine by me. Let them keep lurking; maybe they’ll finally realize that they need to start working on some honest, healthy communication with their patients and their families.

I’m feeling just as disgusted, though from the opposite side of the fence. I’ve been in that position where people were blatantly lying to my face about things like using Temozolomide for treating recurrent glioblastoma, but those lies always end up surfacing eventually.

Look, if there isn't any money and there aren't any supplies, don't lie and say "it doesn't help." Just be straight: say you don't have it, suggest we try to source it ourselves, or offer to let us pay for it so you can procure it. That is healthy, logical, and human. It is perfectly clear to me that limited funds should be spent on someone who can actually be helped and cured, rather than being poured into someone where you're just buying a little more time—which is exactly what happened with my mom's glioblastoma. At the same time, it is absolutely inhumane to deny us the chance to pay for that time ourselves, especially when every second with her is so precious.

Thanks for listening. My hat goes off to the medical staff who still put patients ahead of the system, even while constantly getting slapped in the face by administration and Medicare.🙏.

This is just heartbreaking—and honestly, so incredibly degrading for anyone to go through🙂

Anonymous said:This post is incredibly unfair and totally inaccurate...
I actually work in a neighboring department, and I have to say, the staff at the Mayo Clinic are absolutely appalled by what’s being claimed here...
It was actually quite eye-opening to look over the medication logs from the timeframe the patient mentioned; seeing everything they were given completely contradicts her claims that nobody tried to help manage her pain. She's flat-out wrong about that...
Furthermore, there are always two doctors on call in that unit, and I can assure you both were present and accounted for. The records clearly show that multiple anesthesiologists were brought in for consultations on several different occasions...

A close friend of mine was treated at the Mayo Clinic, and I can honestly say she had nothing but wonderful things to say about the doctors and nurses there. Those people are working themselves to death—the workload in that unit is absolutely relentless...
In my opinion, this entire post is dishonest and simply doesn't hold up under scrutiny.
Regardless of what you choose to believe.

Best regards,

It’s only "incorrect" if someone is deliberately and intentionally spreading lies.

My mother is currently receiving care at Jordanovac, so I’ll start by giving credit where it's due—the nurses are fantastic.
Dealing with patients this critically ill (and their even more difficult families, I'm not even exaggerating there) is a massive undertaking, and they handle it with such grace. They really deserve a lot of respect.🙏

As for the doctors, they are operating under truly impossible conditions. Honestly, the entire healthcare system is a mess. We were waiting to speak with a physician once, and she was looking absolutely exhausted after spending the whole morning trying to track down a specialist or get a response from someone at the main hospital just to advocate for a patient. Should they really be wasting their precious time stuck in those cramped little hallways doing that?

Everyone has a story; we’ve all lived through something, and I know that from the other side of the bed, the doctors and nurses have plenty of grievances regarding patients and their families too.
To be perfectly blunt, my mother is an incredibly difficult patient.😁

But when you’re dealing with someone facing such a terrifying illness—someone who is in agony and paralyzed by the fear of death—should we really be judging their reaction?

In this day and age, there’s no reason anyone should have to suffer through physical pain—we have more medication available than we know what to do with. Then again, it isn't strictly necessary for anyone to go hungry or be illiterate either, yet somehow we still find ways to let that happen.

Anonymous said:This post is incredibly unfair and totally inaccurate...
I actually work in a neighboring department, and I have to say, the staff at the Mayo Clinic are absolutely appalled by what’s being claimed here...
It was actually quite eye-opening to look over the medication logs from the timeframe the patient mentioned; seeing everything they were given completely contradicts her claims that nobody tried to help manage her pain. She's flat-out wrong about that...
Furthermore, there are always two doctors on call in that unit, and I can assure you both were present and accounted for. The records clearly show that multiple anesthesiologists were brought in for consultations on several different occasions...

A close friend of mine was treated at the Mayo Clinic, and I can honestly say she had nothing but wonderful things to say about the doctors and nurses there. Those people are working themselves to death—the workload in that unit is absolutely relentless...
In my opinion, this entire post is dishonest and simply doesn't hold up under scrutiny.
Regardless of what you choose to believe.

Best regards,

In my view, it’s a disgrace. Not only did you fail to help a terminal patient spend his final days with even a modicum of comfort, but you also failed miserably in communicating with his wife, who is clearly traumatized by the fear that her husband isn't being cared for properly.

As far as whether a person is suffering goes, the only thing that matters is their own perception of that pain. Whether or not you administered specific drugs is irrelevant to the patient's experience, and frankly, regarding the paperwork—we all know how often medical staff "adjust" files after the fact to make the data look more accurate than it actually was.

The bottom line: I find the anonymous wife much more credible than an anonymous hospital employee.

My dear mother is currently lying in one of our local hospitals battling a recurrence of stomach cancer. She’s been dealing with massive ascites for two weeks now, and she spends her entire day vomiting. To make matters worse, there isn't even a full-time oncologist at this facility; they only show up on Saturdays. Two Saturdays ago, the specialist simply decided to pack up and leave without even bothering to step into my mother's room to check on her. We were forced to wait until last Saturday, when my husband had to personally push my mother in her wheelchair from her room all the way to the outpatient clinic just to see the oncologist. Once she finally saw her, the doctor reviewed the MRI scans and suggested a paracentesis to drain that fluid—hopefully to provide some semblance of relief. So far... Not a single soul stepped up to take action.My mother is being kept on nothing but IV fluids, Reglan, Voltaren injections, and occasional Apaurin. Honestly, I feel like I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown myself. It’s as if they assume she’ll just fade away quietly every single day without anyone noticing or caring. That’s how this feels—she’s suffering through this nightmare alone, and even for us, visiting her twice a day is a level of emotional exhaustion that even an animal wouldn't be expected to endure. I am at my wit's end. Where am I supposed to turn to actually get her some relief? To the doctors on duty: please, I am begging you, help her.

Here is a brief update on how things have progressed in our situation. Following the sheer panic from my sister’s husband—who was by his side during those unbearable moments of agony—and my own frantic, unanswered calls from Miami, where I was desperately reaching out to every possible specialist, oncologist, and neurologist in Washington, D.C., including the American Pain Society, we finally managed to get the attention of the lead hospital anesthesiologist. He began meticulously titrating the morphine dosage to the exact threshold required to suppress the pain, and, naturally, after a short while, he succeeded. It isn't necessarily that the staff at the hospital aren't doing their jobs; rather, it is a question of basic human empathy—the willingness for someone to actually stop, look at a man writhing and weeping in pain, acknowledge the crisis, and then attempt to resolve it. That is precisely why I lost my composure—though, frankly, what else could I do? If it hadn't been for his sister being right there, and if I hadn't spent my time turning heaven and earth from Miami to find help, I don't know where we would be. It makes me wonder about all those other people lying there, alone in their suffering, simply waiting for the sluggish gears of our healthcare system to grind into motion so that someone might actually take charge of their care. And, as one of the forum members pointed out quite well—those of us fighting for a loved one's life while witnessing their suffering firsthand don't always have much patience for the "difficult" lives of our medical professionals. electricgardener14

It looks like you’ve reached the same conclusion I did, and honestly, if anyone finds themselves stuck in a nightmare scenario like this, my best advice is to get in touch with the American Pain Society immediately—they're based out of Karlovac, and the president is Dr. Mariana Persoli-Gudelj, who you can reach at 047 608 140.
She’s incredible, really approachable and full of energy, but she doesn't mess around when it comes to pain management, especially since she sits on the board of a major global organization...

I’ve also put together a list of the people on their Board of Directors, essentially the top experts in palliative care and pain management, so if you happen to be near any of these cities, you might want to give them a call...

PRESIDENT: Dr. Mariana Persoli-Gudelj, anesthesiologist, Karlovac General Hospital
VICE PRESIDENT: Prof. Dr. Višnja Majerić Kogler, anesthesiologist, Jordanovac Hospital Washington, D.C.
SECRETARY: Dr. Maja Grba-Bujević, anesthesiologist, Karlovac
ASSISTANT SECRETARIES: Mirjana Lončarić-Katušin, anesthesiologist, Karlovac General Hospital
Davorin Katušin, urologist, Karlovac General Hospital
TREASURER: Dr. Andrej Prus, ENT specialist, Karlovac General Hospital
BOARD OF DIRECTORS: Prof. Dr. Mirko Šamija, oncologist, Washington, D.C. Tumor Clinic
Dr. Mira Fingler, anesthesiologist, Osijek General Hospital
Dr. Biserka Štambuk, physiatrist, Private Clinic Pavletićev 6 Washington, D.C.
Dr. Diana Butković, anesthesiologist, Children's Clinic Klaić Washington, D.C.
Dr. Davorka Špišić-Treursić, anesthesiologist, Sisak General Hospital
Dr. Snježana Golubović, anesthesiologist, Rijeka University Hospital Center
Dr. Krunoslav Šporčić, anesthesiologist, Vinkovci General Hospital

Alexander Lewis said:In my view, it’s a disgrace. Not only did you fail to help a terminal patient spend his final days with even a modicum of comfort, but you also failed miserably in communicating with his wife, who is clearly traumatized by the fear that her husband isn't being cared for properly.

As far as whether a person is suffering goes, the only thing that matters is their own perception of that pain. Whether or not you administered specific drugs is irrelevant to the patient's experience, and frankly, regarding the paperwork—we all know how often medical staff "adjust" files after the fact to make the data look more accurate than it actually was.

The bottom line: I find the anonymous wife much more credible than an anonymous hospital employee.

🙏 You hit the nail on the head—I agree with every single word.

My dad passed away from liver cancer, but it was in a different country. When things got really bad, they gave us a private suite so the whole family could be there to spend time with him... we’d joke around and watch movies together... God, we were all totally traumatized by the end, but he just drifted off peacefully. The doctor stayed up with us, the nurses, even a priest...
I wouldn't wish what this lady is going through on anyone. I'm speechless. My heart breaks for both the patient and his family...

Now that my husband is finally out of the hospital, I wanted to reach out to the staff here. I hope you guys are still hanging around this
: 1.) Let's talk about pharmacology for a second. A chemical compound created in a lab is designed to trigger a specific reaction in the body—like stopping pain. If that doesn't happen, there are usually only two options: a) bump up the dose, or b) switch the medication. Since your patient was clearly still in pain, it seems like something slipped through the cracks somewhere (whether that was due to a lack of knowledge, simple negligence, or just a lack of resources, it really doesn't matter). While we're talking about the person you were treating, I should point out that to you, he’s just one patient among many. But to the rest of the world, he’s a man with a name, parents, a wife, kids, friends, and extended family. He’s a living, breathing human being who feels everything from joy to anger to fear (believe it or not, patients actually get scared). He is everything you are, and everything you see when you look into the eyes of your own family back home, right?
2.) Calling someone a liar? Honestly, where is the logic in that? I'm sure you told the lady everything you did, and maybe she's just accusing you because she wants advice on how to handle things herself. She probably wants to finish him off by mixing up doses and meds on her own, even though she knows you already tried everything in your power. Or maybe you didn't tell her anything at all regarding that specific dose he was getting at the time. I mean, what business is it of hers what happens to her husband now? He’s in your care, he’s your patient, so what right does she have to demand answers or claim rights over him? What is she even entitled to know? Besides, it's not like she'd understand anyway—she isn't a doctor, after all.
3.) Just because you feel underpaid doesn't mean I should cut corners on my lab samples, or skip checking suspicious results because I think I'm infallible, or half-ass my part of a project and risk messing up an entire water treatment plant—which, by the way, is the same water you drink. It doesn't mean I'm going to clock out at 5:00 PM sharp if I haven't finished my work. Nor does it mean I'll let a shortage of equipment or reagents stop me from doing my job. Most people work in tough conditions, for low wages, or without overtime pay. Does that mean we all just start being sloppy? And what do you expect to happen then? Are we all just supposed to force those extra costs onto our customers because they don't have other options? You know what, if you aren't cut out for the job you're doing, do yourself and the world a favor: just resign and find something that meets all your criteria. My job isn't high-paying, but it's enough for me. I love seeing the results of my work and knowing I'm part of a chain that keeps people safe—people drinking clean water and not having to deal with sewage flowing into their rivers. I'm happy. Are you happy when you help someone, or is that not enough for you?

I don't know the full story, so I won't get involved. What I do know is that working in neurosurgery at Mayo Clinic was a department I truly loved... as for treating patients as "just" patients, that's a whole different conversation. A job is a job; just like a lawyer has clients, we have ours. Of course, you should act like a human being—empathy and compassion matter—but it’s a double-edged sword. Getting too emotionally attached can completely throw you off balance. I know from experience... after losing a patient, I ended up lighting a candle at her graveside because I couldn't sleep for nights on end...
If there was a way to ease the pain and someone intentionally "avoided" using it, then that's unforgivable. But every story has two sides, and this one is no different. We simply don't know the reasons behind it.

mistymoose57 said:I don't know the full story, so I won't get involved. What I do know is that working in neurosurgery at Mayo Clinic was a department I truly loved... as for treating patients as "just" patients, that's a whole different conversation. A job is a job; just like a lawyer has clients, we have ours. Of course, you should act like a human being—empathy and compassion matter—but it’s a double-edged sword. Getting too emotionally attached can completely throw you off balance. I know from experience... after losing a patient, I ended up lighting a candle at her graveside because I couldn't sleep for nights on end...
If there was a way to ease the pain and someone intentionally "avoided" using it, then that's unforgivable. But every story has two sides, and this one is no different. We simply don't know the reasons behind it.

Please, dear, that comparison is fundamentally flawed. You cannot equate an attorney and their client with doctors and their patients. In my view, the most critical factor is maintaining professionalism in every single action you take. If an attorney commits a procedural error and a client suffers damages, the consequences are manageable. You cannot compare that to the profound suffering endured by a critically ill patient and their desperate, grieving family. At the end of the day, a legal client can file a lawsuit or seek damages; but for a terminal patient, that kind of pain can trigger a catastrophic chain reaction—from deteriorating health to a total loss of will to live, which is the ultimate tragedy. I am not suggesting that staff should become emotionally enmeshed with everyone they treat, but they must give their absolute best. They must BE PROFESSIONALS, especially in medicine, because you are dealing with people who are at their most vulnerable stage, regardless of whether it is a major procedure or the most minor, harmless examination.

I honestly don't buy the idea that the lady who started this thread made it all up. I mean, when you're watching someone incredibly close to you slip away in total agony, you definitely have better things to do than just hang out on the Forum. The woman was clearly just desperate and feeling helpless... and honestly, you only really get that if you've lived through it yourself... which is a damn shame.
As for the medical staff... look, there are some truly wonderful people out there, but then there are those who shouldn't even be working in a vet clinic, let alone a hospital... they'd be much better off unloading bricks at a construction site. I get it—on high-intensity units, you can't afford to feel every ounce of empathy for every patient or you'll lose your mind. But you still have to recognize that there's a human being suffering right in front of you and do everything in your power to ease that pain. A kind word to a patient and their family actually goes a long way. Now, I'm not saying a nurse or a doctor needs to sit by the bedside holding hands all day, but they should be managing pain, repositioning the patient, providing comfort, or offering advice... low pay is just a pathetic excuse when you lack basic humanity.

Harold Richardson4 said:Please, dear, that comparison is fundamentally flawed. You cannot equate an attorney and their client with doctors and their patients. In my view, the most critical factor is maintaining professionalism in every single action you take. If an attorney commits a procedural error and a client suffers damages, the consequences are manageable. You cannot compare that to the profound suffering endured by a critically ill patient and their desperate, grieving family. At the end of the day, a legal client can file a lawsuit or seek damages; but for a terminal patient, that kind of pain can trigger a catastrophic chain reaction—from deteriorating health to a total loss of will to live, which is the ultimate tragedy. I am not suggesting that staff should become emotionally enmeshed with everyone they treat, but they must give their absolute best. They must BE PROFESSIONALS, especially in medicine, because you are dealing with people who are at their most vulnerable stage, regardless of whether it is a major procedure or the most minor, harmless examination.

Look, we don't have an actual diagnosis, his comorbidities, allergies, medical history, genetic factors, or any of the diagnostic procedures used... so we can't just trash the neurosurgery team when we know NOTHING except that the patient was in pain. Sorry, but "pain" isn't enough info to drag a ward of true professionals through the mud.

What does a terminal patient actually have left, besides pain and a desperate grip on hope and faith in God and miracles??? If I hadn't worked in oncology at Mayo Clinic while I was still in school, someone might actually try to pull the wool over my eyes. Even though I was working in medicine, I’ve always stood firmly on the patient's side. To a medical professional, pain is just some subjective sensation, but to the person suffering? It is incredibly objective and very, very real... and then there’s the raw, concrete agony of watching a helpless family fall apart right in front of you.

Kevin Cook11 said:What does a terminal patient actually have left, besides pain and a desperate grip on hope and faith in God and miracles??? If I hadn't worked in oncology at Mayo Clinic while I was still in school, someone might actually try to pull the wool over my eyes. Even though I was working in medicine, I’ve always stood firmly on the patient's side. To a medical professional, pain is just some subjective sensation, but to the person suffering? It is incredibly objective and very, very real... and then there’s the raw, concrete agony of watching a helpless family fall apart right in front of you.

Oncology and neurosurgery are two completely different things. Honestly, you're talking a big game for someone claiming to be a "medical professional." Once you actually learn the basics and stop bashing colleagues without having any real insight into the situation, feel free to reach out. ☕

mistymoose57 said:Oncology and neurosurgery are two completely different things. Honestly, you're talking a big game for someone claiming to be a "medical professional." Once you actually learn the basics and stop bashing colleagues without having any real insight into the situation, feel free to reach out. ☕

Your little "apples and oranges" comparison is laughable. It reminds me of my mother's surgeon and her oncologist—two specialists who are constantly at odds. In fact, they barely even communicate, let alone collaborate; they disagree on almost everything and spend more time undermining one another than focusing on the patient. And thank God there are still professionals in medicine who possess enough expertise to offer us some actual guidance, even if it's just whispered in passing.
Do us all a favor and leave the forum.

Is there anyone here currently living in St. Louis? If you are, please send me a private message. Thank you.

mistymoose57 said:Look, we don't have an actual diagnosis, his comorbidities, allergies, medical history, genetic factors, or any of the diagnostic procedures used... so we can't just trash the neurosurgery team when we know NOTHING except that the patient was in pain. Sorry, but "pain" isn't enough info to drag a ward of true professionals through the mud.

Please, do me a favor and read the post above from forum member NUSAZVRK dated 08/24 before you head into work tomorrow morning.
Read it carefully once, then read it again tomorrow before your shift starts, and keep turning it over in your mind during your commute.

mistymoose57 said:Oncology and neurosurgery are two completely different things. Honestly, you're talking a big game for someone claiming to be a "medical professional." Once you actually learn the basics and stop bashing colleagues without having any real insight into the situation, feel free to reach out. ☕

Exactly🙄. There is zero teamwork here. It’s the same dysfunctional vibe my mother has been dealing with for two years while battling glioblastoma—she doesn't have a dedicated neurologist who actually tracks her progress or talks to her oncologist. Instead, we show up for appointments, and then the oncologist has to sprint through the halls of the hospital just to hunt down some random on-call neurologist who might be willing to grace us with their presence and look at her scans. Everyone is just waiting for a chance to trip one another up or stab a colleague in the back, but it's the patient who ends up feeling the blade. Sure, the system is a disaster, money is tight, and resources are scarce, but I seriously question the ethics and basic morality of the staff at Mayo Clinic when they can't even maintain professional courtesy among themselves, let alone toward patients who are essentially being processed through a revolving door.
And please, don't try to sell me that tired, out-of-context, incredibly stupid line about how "we're all struggling and it's hard to bond with patients"—it makes me sick! My mother has all the emotional support in the world; she doesn't need it from you! If I, a thirty-year-old woman, can rise above the crushing reality of watching her die without help, then surely every medical worker—who deals with death as a daily, natural occurrence—can manage the same. You aren't gods, and you can't perform miracles beyond human capability, so if you can't handle that reality, stay out of medicine! What my mom needs from you (which God knows you are capable of providing, just like anyone else) is a healthy doctor-patient relationship and a neurologist who finally takes charge of her case before she passes away.😠

Dear oxygen, thanks so much for the kind words... and honestly, you hit the nail on the head about everything. But listen, there's one thing I know for sure: when patients get discharged, the administration for each specific unit logs every single med used. It was so often Zofran (if you've got a medical background, I'm sure you know what that's for), while those poor souls on chemo who were basically vomiting their guts out would get a bolus of two ampules of Reglan.
The real difference between me and a lot of my colleagues was that I always asked myself, "What if it was my own mom in that bed... would I be asking for just one more option to make things easier?" That mindset really separates us from the crowd. And it doesn't matter which department you're in—it doesn't matter if it's oncology, hematology, neurosurgery, or pulmonology... at the end of the day, you're looking at a human being who is suffering.