Well, the move from Albany was a fiasco. I can hear David telling me to streamline the story, but not sure if that is possible. The day started off great with news that they had a bed for him at the Rusk Institute, and they were arranging for an ambulance for 2:30. Rusk was not our first choice, the Hospital for Joint Diseases was, but we thought getting him to rehab and NY was paramount. Alex headed off for the airport a bit after noon, and we waited for the ambulance. David was very anxious – as he always is when we travel. Joy had come up and we packed up the car with the stuff we had in Vermont, and we were going to drive to NY, drop off things at the apartment and I would meet David at Rusk on 34th Street, and Joy would head home.
Well, traffic was bad – an hour at the Lincoln Tunnel, but we thought, the ambulance was probably heading down the east side and with David’s beloved Yankees playing at home, we might actually beat him to the hospital – even with a later start, traffic and the stop a the apartment. I went into Rusk, and they had no record of him. I went to the emergency room to see if he was there, and no record. Went back to the front to wait for the ambulance, and still, no record. I called Albany Medical Center, and they told me to give them a call back in half an hour. I called Joy in a panic, because I felt bad that I hadn’t written down my cell phone for the ambulance folks, but kept telling myself, they had my number at the hospital, so that would travel with him, and if there were a problem, they would call.
Went back to emergency, and the ladies there took pity on me, and started calling, paging and otherwise trying to track him down – this was between admitting folks who were coming into the emergency room. It was now half an hour, and I called the desk at Albany Medical Center, and his nurse said that they had just spoken to the admitting nurse at the facility. I asked, “What facility?” and he said “The one in NY.” “Which one in NY?” said I, and he said “The one on 19th Street”. “Well,” said I “that’s interesting, because that is the one that you said he couldn’t get into.”
Not wanting to waste any time, and thinking, well this is a happy accident, I thanked the folks at the ER, we had a good laugh, and I hopped a cab to 19th Street. Needless to say, the Hospital for Joint Diseases is not on 19th Street, but on 17th Street, but I finally found the entrance, and was relieved to see the ambulance on the corner. Hallelujah!! . . . . not sooooo fast
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I went to the front desk, and asked if I could find out where David Shapiro is, and he could’t find a record. I said he must be here, the ambulance is outside and it looks empty, so he must be here. He recommended I check with emergency admitting (or some office behind him) to see if he was there. A very unhelpful woman told me he wasn’t there, and not until I ran back out, double checked to make sure the ambulance was indeed empty, began screaming and finally crying something like Shirley MacLaine in Terms of Endearment did she get up and find someone to help me.
It turns out that Albany had completely screwed up. He didn’t have a bed at Rusk or at HJD, but they were working to get him admitted to HDJ. The ambulance driver suggested that I get a lawyer, immediately and call Albany Medical tomorrow.
That was my side of the ordeal, and I couldn’t really tell you David’s, except the look of exhaustion, anger and desparation on David’s face was frightening. The idea of driving back to Albany was impossible to even consider, and going to another emergency room would have killed the both of us. Thanks to the generosity, work and kindness of the folks at HJD, he did get admitted, and I am home and writing this at 1:10AM and David is well cared for.