The Frothling was diagnosed with Lyme disease. While Lyme is easily curable in its early stages, the longer it goes untreated, the harder it is to treat. She started exhibiting symptoms three weeks ago. Since it was the weekend, we were directed to take her to Children's Hospital, which, as an aside, was acquired by The Evil Empire about a decade ago. Mrs. Froth took her, and I stayed home to watch Frothette and Pumpkin. They didn't get back until 0300 Monday, with nothing known, but blood drawn for labwork.
I asked Mrs. Froth if The Frothling was prescribed antibiotics as a precaution, as the symptoms seemed similar to Lyme. She told me no, but she called the next day to request antibiotics, and was told to wait for the test results.
The test results were back on Wednesday, positive for Lyme. And there they sat. No phone call to us, no call to our PCP, no call to the rheumatologist that we were directed to make an appointment with.
When the Frothling saw the rheumatologist eight days later, and the symptoms were described, he immediately said, "Oh, that sounds like Lyme." He was told the hospital ordered blood tests, but we hadn't gotten the results yet. The doctor called the hospital, and learned that the results came back over a week ago, but were "misplaced."
The rheumatologist said the bite could have occurred up to 2 months ago. We're probably still in the window where the month-long antibiotic regime will clear the infection, but there is a chance it won't. The rheumatologist was shocked that the hospital didn't prescribe the antibiotics that night.
So yesterday, the hospital called and spoke with Mrs. Froth, and admitted that mistakes were made. I, for one, will be consulting with an attorney next week.