Mike Brown wanting to finish his dinner, while people were starving and dying in New Orleans, hit painfully close to home.
I remember 6 PM one fateful day in January of 1993. The co-assistant who had been on my side all day at the OLVG Hospital in Amsterdam, called the OB-GYN, who'd be on duty that evening. He wanted her permission to get me ready for the O.R. The doctor who did the intake 12 hours earlier, promised me a C-section if I hadn't dilated enough by 6 PM.
"A breech delivery has to run like a train, each station reached at a certain time," he told my husband and me. "We'll monitor you and your baby all day." And then he went home, off for the day.
At 6 PM I was dilated 1 cm, and yet the female doctor, who was having dinner, told the co-assistant, "Let her continue a while longer".
By 7 PM I was dilated the full 10 cm (imagine the tormenting storms that raged through my body), but the doctor was no where in sight. I had to wait pushing until she arrived at 7:30 PM, dressed in a knit outfit the color of dead liver. A nurse helped her in her white coat. At 7:55 PM our baby's body was born. But not her head. She suffocated during the last 5 minutes of the breech delivery.
Nationally the hospital policy concerning breech deliveries was changed ten years later.
Reluctantly. There are always those who think they can have their cake and eat it too.
That's what I think of, when I read about Mike Brown's business.
Some policy needs to be changed.