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#how many women died due to medical negligence? how many women died due to 'inadequate research' on majority-female diseases?
feuilletoniste · 3 years
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nancydhooper · 3 years
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What It’s Like to Face a Deadly Pandemic Behind Bars
For incarcerated people, it can be impossible to prevent contracting COVID-19. Crowded quarters, limited access to hygiene, and inadequate medical care have made jails and prisons the sites of some of the worst outbreaks in the country. To date, more than 350,000 people have tested positive while incarcerated and 2,305 have died, in addition to 145 corrections staff. Some state and local governments have responded by authorizing the release of people who are elderly or immunocompromised. But there are still far too many people languishing in unsafe and inhumane facilities, sometimes not even able to communicate with loved ones. 
Below, four formerly incarcerated people share their stories about what it’s like to be incarcerated during the pandemic, while friends and family members are often left helpless on the outside.
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Ideare Bailey
Dallas, Texas
I started getting sick about a week after arriving at Dallas County Jail. I tried to get help from the infirmary but the nurses kept sending me back to the dorm without even taking my temperature. I couldn’t file a grievance either because I had no pen or paper. So I just kept going back to the clinic, and went about 15 times before they finally took my temperature and found out I had a 106-degree fever. But they still sent me back to my dorm even while I waited for my test results. A few days later, I tested positive for COVID-19 and they transferred me to the infirmary. 
I thought I was going to die in there. They gave me no information about the virus or how to stop it from spreading. All I knew was that I was high risk because I have Type II diabetes, and they were not giving me enough insulin. If there was an emergency, I would have to bang on the windows to get a nurse’s attention. All I could do was try to keep breathing and pray to make it through.
During my time in the infirmary, I had no contact with my family. My wife was calling the jail over and over, but the staff wouldn’t let me use the phone. But I knew she was going to do whatever it takes, without me having to say anything. I’ve been with my wife for many years, and I feel blessed to have someone like her in my corner. 
I ended up getting released because of my medical condition, but it took a while for them to finally let me out. When I finally got home, we sent our kids to stay with family while I recovered. 
I feel like the jail could have done a lot more. Even though we’re in a confined space, with a bunch of people that maybe did wrong, you still have to treat people as humans. The jail started taking measures after they kept getting complaints from a bunch of sick people, but it was kind of late for that. 
To people who are incarcerated right now, I would tell them to pray. Because at the end of the day, people are already looking at you as some kind of bad or evil person just because you’re incarcerated. So you have to help yourself. Try to keep something on your face, keep your distance. Pray. 
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Kivia Bailey
Before Ideare even went to jail, I remember us watching the news thinking ‘oh my God, jail is a bad place to be right now.’ Little did we know, seven days later that would be our reality when Ideare was incarcerated at Dallas County Jail. His incarceration was dangerous even before it began. I called him while he was in court for his intake, and I could hear people coughing all around him through the phone. I was panicking, but tried not to show it. I just told him to cover his face with his shirt. 
Ideare and I kept in frequent contact for days, until one day I stopped hearing from him. I called the jail and found out they had taken him to the infirmary because he had tested positive for COVID-19. My husband never gets sick, even with his diabetes, so it was shocking when I finally got him on the phone and could barely recognize his voice. He was gasping, and barely had the strength to pick up the phone. At that moment, I was in the car with my kids. I didn’t want them to know about how horribly their dad was being treated, and how scared I was. 
I did everything I could to get him out of jail. I hired a lawyer to seek bail reduction, but even that wasn’t enough, and I ended up having to sell my wedding ring to make a bail deposit. Even after all of that, it still took a while to get him out, because he needed an ankle monitor and none of the staff wanted to get near him to put it on because he was sick. All I wanted was to bring him home so wouldn’t die in jail. 
The day I finally picked up Ideare from the Jail, he had lost so much weight he was unrecognizable. I just started crying. My God, he looked completely different. He looked like he was close to death. 
You never think your family is going to go through something like this until it happens. It’s not like watching it on TV, when you might think ‘Oh, maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe they aren’t treating inmates like that for real.’ But when you actually see for yourself, it hits you. Incarcerated people are not being treated like human beings. No one should be treated that way.
Catrina Balderrama
Los Angeles, California
The staff at Century Regional Detention Facility (CRDF) didn’t know what to do with me when I tested positive for COVID-19 in April. I had only been there since mid-January and was among the first cases they knew about. I had a fever of 103.5 degrees, severe headaches, and was so sweaty I looked like I’d jumped in a pool. I was especially worried because I was pregnant at the time. I ended up having a miscarriage while I was in jail, and I believe the terrible conditions and treatment at CRDF caused it. 
I started feeling sick about a week before they gave me a COVID test, even though I sent written and verbal requests days before. During that time, I was living in a unit with 200 other women, locked up in five by ten foot cells literally piled on top of each other. It’s so crowded in there that you’d be right next to a girl while she was using the toilet. We relied on the county to provide us with shelter and supplies, but there was never enough. You could go three days using just three sheets of toilet paper. Sometimes, you couldn’t find even half a bar of soap. The staff seemed like they didn’t care at all. 
After I got sick, they sent me straight to the “hole,” a basement area where they keep people for disciplinary segregation. One of the guards told me I would die in there. They put me in a single person cell that was in disgusting condition, with old food under the bed and feces on the walls. I received only one paper mask, no soap, and they refused to give me my medicine, including an inhaler for my asthma. For days, I went without any meds or showers. I wasn’t allowed to contact my family or even check on my kids.                                         
The jail staff seemed like they were trying to hide any information about COVID-19 from us. Anytime it came on the news, they would switch it off. They didn’t let the other inmates know I had tested positive because they didn’t want people to panic and bombard the mini clinic, which was already in bad shape even before the virus. The staff didn’t even tell me when I had a miscarriage. They knew I had lost the baby when they drew my blood for testing, and kept me on my prenatal diet without even telling me I wasn’t pregnant anymore. I have no doubt that their poor medical treatment and all the stress caused my miscarriage. 
The treatment from staff was so dehumanizing. They bullied us and made us feel like scum. One time, an officer came and told me my release papers had come through and I was going home. When I got excited, she said, “April Fools,” and then, “See you later in hell when you die from COVID-19.” The other deputies outside my cell laughed about it. I was told I would die in the hole, and I believed it.
The worst part was that I was not able to contact my family. I had to ask one of the nurses to call them and let them know I was sick. I was really worried about my mom, who is in a coma. I am her conservator and I was afraid she might die and I’d never know. 
I was finally released from jail on April 24, 2020. By that time, I had lost my home, kids, my job, my puppy — everything. I had lost a baby due to the staff’s negligence and I didn’t know whether I would ever be able to have another. Right now I am homeless. My daughter is living with my mother-in-law until I find a place to live. My son is in Ontario. My kids miss me and need me. 
There is no justice whatsoever in our criminal justice system. People look at us like we are all bad people because we are in jail. I wish everybody would understand we are mothers, daughters, sisters. We are people. 
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Hendrey Boykins
Phoenix, Arizona
I was really scared when I went to jail in February 2020. I had just been diagnosed with tuberculosis, and I also have an irregular heartbeat and frequent high blood pressure, which makes me high-risk to COVID-19. I just wanted to get out alive.
I got sick immediately and repeatedly over the next few months. I had a dry cough, sore neck, and even spat up blood. But I was afraid to tell the staff about my symptoms because I knew they were throwing sick people in the hole. Other people in my pod felt the same way. Nobody wanted to die alone in the hole. 
Because of my medical conditions, I was very careful about trying not to catch the virus even though it seemed impossible sometimes. Every pod has 15 cells, each with a triple bunk bed. There isn’t even a full arm’s length between mattresses. We shared a toilet, sink, table, and chair that rarely got cleaned. The entire pod shares two showers that get hosed down only once a week. Shared phones and railings hardly ever get cleaned. We were expected to take care of ourselves, but they never gave us the supplies we needed. 
I did what I could to try to protect myself. Whenever I used the phone, I would put socks on my hands and tie plastic bags over them, or wrap the phone with my one dirty towel. They only gave us one paper mask. I wore mine every day even though it got dirty and smelled. A lot of other inmates didn’t wear theirs, and it was the same with staff. I tried to be safe and stay in my cell always, but my cellmates were leaving and coming back all the time. I was afraid that I would catch COVID-19 no matter how hard I tried to protect myself. 
In July, I got sick again and so did many others in my housing unit.  This time they tested us and put me in medical isolation at 4th Avenue Jail. I tested positive for COVID-19 and later learned that many people in my housing unit did too. When I was in medical isolation, the guards would not give me a blanket or a pillow, which made my headache worse. The medical staff would just take my temperature and not check anything else or would come and ask me questions through the door, but I couldn’t hear them. They didn’t care. They just walked away. I still had symptoms when they released me from medical isolation but the staff ignored it. 
I was released from Maricopa County Jail in late July. Now I’m back home with my family and helping take care of my granddaughter so my daughter can go to school on a scholarship she won. We’re close, and we’re going to stay close through this pandemic. 
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Ximena
I fled to the U.S. from Mexico two decades ago after my husband was kidnapped for ransom and killed. I started a new life and ran a homeopathic pharmacy as I watched my three children grow up. But in 2019, I was arrested for illegal reentry during an unlawful traffic stop, and sent to CoreCivic detention center (CCA), where I spent many months in physical and emotional pain. I have several medical conditions, including diabetes, high blood pressure, and kidney cancer, and was not allowed cancer treatment. 
We first heard about the coronavirus on TV, not from staff. Then people started getting sick. CCA made some changes, like stopping visitation, but they did not supply us with enough PPE and cleaning supplies. If anybody complained that they weren’t feeling well, the staff would just give us some aspirin or Tylenol, treating it like an allergy or flu. During that time, we were only allowed one shower every three days, and continued to live in crowded cells. I thought I would die from either COVID-19 or cancer. I had not received any cancer treatment since July of 2019, and my pain worsened. The medical staff did not help me, so I had to heat up a towel or sock in the microwave for relief, or sometimes some of the girls would give me painkillers. It was a hopeless situation. A lawyer was trying to get me out on bail or have someone vouch for me in court, but their requests were denied. The staff were trying to hide the dangers of COVID-19 from us, but we were not fooled.                                              
I was deported at dawn on the day after my final court hearing. Since then, my life has changed 360 degrees. I lost the life I had built — my home, my business, my two daughters who are still there. It’s hard to start over at my age, especially with my illnesses. Sometimes I still don’t have the strength to live. The traumas I experienced in detention make me depressed, and some nights I can’t sleep. In detention, it’s like you’re not even a human being. Life goes by very slowly. You constantly feel as if you are at death’s door. You see people hanging themselves in their cells, or cutting their wrists. I used to cry every day, but now, it’s like I don’t have any tears left.
Hui de México a Estados Unidos hace veinte años, después de que a mi esposo lo secuestraran por dinero y lo mataran. Empecé una vida nueva, tuve una farmacia homeopática mientras criaba a mis tres hijos. Pero en el 2019, me arrestaron por haber reingresado al país ilegalmente, durante un control de tráfico ilegal y me enviaron al centro de detención CoreCivic (CCA), en el que pasé muchos meses de dolor físico y emocional. Tengo varias condiciones de salud, entre ellas diabetes, presión alta, cáncer del hígado y no me brindaron tratamiento para el cáncer.
Nos enteramos del coronavirus por la televisión, no por el personal de la detención. Luego la gente se empezó a enfermar. CCA implantó algunos cambios, como detener las visitas, pero no nos proveyeron suficiente equipo de protección (“PPE”) ni materiales de limpieza. Si alguien decía que no se sentía bien, el personal solamente nos daba aspirina o Tylenol, como si se tratara de una alergia o gripe. Solamente nos permitían bañarnos cada 3 días y continuamos viviendo en celdas llenas de gente. Pensaba que me iba a morir o de COVID-19 o de cáncer. No había recibido tratamiento para el cáncer desde julio de 2019, y mis dolores empeoraban. El personal médico no me ayudaba, así que tenía que calentar toallas o calcetas en el microondas para aliviar el dolor, o a veces algunas de las muchachas me conseguían analgésicos. Era una situación desesperanzadora. Un abogado estaba tratando de sacarme bajo fianza o que alguien me avalara en corte, pero las peticiones fueron denegadas. El personal trataba de escondernos los peligros del COVID-19, pero no nos lograron engañar.
Me deportaron al amanecer el día después de mi vista final en corte. Desde entonces, mi vida ha dado un cambio de 360 grados. Perdí la vida que había construido — mi hogar, mi negocio, a mis dos hijas que todavía están ahí. Es difícil volver a comenzar a mi edad, especialmente con mis enfermedades. Todavía a veces no tengo la fuerza para seguir viviendo. Los traumas que sufrí en la detención me deprimen y algunas noches no logro conciliar el sueño. Ingresada en la detención es como si ni siquiera fueses un ser humano. La vida pasa muy despacio. Ves cómo la gente se ahorca en sus celdas o se corta las venas. Solía llorar todos los días, pero ya no me quedan más lágrimas. 
from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8247012 https://www.aclu.org/news/smart-justice/what-its-like-to-face-a-deadly-pandemic-behind-bars via http://www.rssmix.com/
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rolandfontana · 5 years
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Deaths Behind Bars Spur Concerns Across the U.S.
On July 10, 2015, 28-year-old Sandra Bland was pulled over in Prairie View, Texas, for what she was told by Texas state trooper Brian Encinia was failing to use her turn signal.
Three days after Bland’s arrest, she was found dead in the jail cell where she had been booked on a charge of assaulting a police officer. [The officer has since been fired for violating departmental standards. But Bland’s death, which was ruled a suicide, has raised troubling questions about whether jail authorities took sufficient measures that could have avoided it—or not least, paid more attention to her troubled mental state at the time of her arrest.]
Those questions extend far beyond Texas.
A Guardian investigation has found significant increases in jail and prison deaths across the U.S. Texas, with the nation’s largest prison population, has seen a 20-year high in prison suicides; 2018 recorded the state’s highest number of in-custody prison deaths since at least 2005.
In-custody deaths have risen steadily since 2000 in Florida, with the third-highest prison population in the U.S. In 2017, the state registered  a record 428 deaths.
While the majority of deaths in state prisons are due to illness connected with an aging prison population, there have also been significant rises in mortality rates due to suicides, homicides, accidents, drug and alcohol-related events, and untreated medical issues.
Editor’s Note: a 2016 report from the Bureau of Justice Statistics recorded 3,927 inmate deaths in state and federal prisons (3,483 in state prisons alone) in 2014, the last year for which nationwide figures were available, which it called “the largest number of inmate deaths reported in state and federal prisons” since researchers began collecting such data in 2001.
In Utah, at least 71 people died in jails over the past five years, with half those deaths a result of suicide and most within a week of an individual entering jail. The state’s jails have the highest death rate per capita in the U.S.
In August 2018, 16 deaths in Mississippi jails in a single month prompted an FBI investigation.
In California, a U.S. Supreme Court order to reduce the state’s prison population resulted in prisoners being transferred to county jails. Unequipped to handle the influx, those prisons have experienced spikes in homicides.
Prisoners in Michigan are dying at the state’s highest rate in decades, and 2018 saw the most prison fatalities in the state since at least 1994, though prison deaths are not consistently tracked by the state.
A record number of prisoners committed suicide in South Carolina in 2018; homicides within the state prison system are also on the rise.
A 2017 report published by the Rand Corporation identified several high-priority challenges to reduce prison mortality rates, including the lack of a nationwide “medical examiner system.”
“A national medical examiner system should be implemented because of the additional rigor these professionals have, and more consistency with how they do investigations and classify cause of death,” Joe Russo, the lead author of the report, said in an interview with the Guardian.
The report noted an underlying issue in addressing prison mortality rates: the inadequate reporting methods used by various jurisdictions throughout the U.S.
For instance, New Jersey has one of the highest U.S. mortality rates in county jails, but exact numbers remain unknown because of unreliable data collection and reporting.
Based on available data, county jails in New Jersey saw a 55 percent increase in prison suicides between 2012 and 2016. The New Jersey Department of Corrections announced some changes in December 2018 to address prison suicides, but prison reform advocates are pushing for more reforms.
Lack of Accountability, Oversight
“Robust, meaningful oversight and accountability is required at many levels,” said Tess Borden, a staff attorney at the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) of New Jersey. “[Particularly] of medical contractors, of jail policies and practices, of county decision-making and reporting,”
“Other countries have a lot of oversight, the U.S. does not,” added Dr. Josiah Rich, director of the Center for Prisoner Health and Human Rights and professor of medicine and epidemiology at Brown University.
During the same period of rising mortality rates in Florida prisons, the state government made drastic cuts in staffing and prison programs.
In Alabama, significant budget shortfalls and widespread understaffing in prison and jails throughout the state contributed to surges in prison mortality rates. About 15 suicides have occurred in Alabama prisons since December 2017, and the state prisons have a homicide rate 10 times higher than the national average.
“There are a lot of people working to try to fix the problems in the Alabama department of corrections, with understaffing being the root of the problem,” said Ashley Austin, a law fellow at the Alabama Disabilities Advocacy Program.
In an April 2019 report, the Department of Justice said that Alabama’s prison system likely violates the U.S. constitution in its failure to adequately provide safe conditions for prisoners.
Only one-third of the state’s correctional officers are authorized to adequately operate the prisons, while the state’s prisons are overcrowded by nearly twice their designed capacity.
Prisons and jails throughout the U.S. are plagued by surges in mortality rates due to varying degrees of underfunding, understaffing, and negligence— exacerbated by inadequate facilities for addressing serious mental health and substance abuse issues of individuals caught within the criminal justice system, the Guardian found.
More than half of state and sentenced jail prisoners meet the criteria for drug dependence and abuse. Around 14.5 percent of men and over 31 percent of women in prison suffer from serious mental health illnesses.
Once in prison or jail, many of these individuals receive little or no treatment for their illnesses.
Janice Dotson Stephens was one of them.
The 61-year-old, who suffered from mental health problems, died in Bexar County Jail, Texas, on Dec. 14, 2018 after spending five months behind bars for a misdemeanor charge of criminal trespassing on a $300 bond. She never saw a courtroom during that time span, while waiting for a psychiatric evaluation that was never conducted.
“We received the medical records two weeks ago,” said attorney Leslie Sachanowicz, who is representing the family in a lawsuit against Bexar County, the arresting officer, and the health services provider.
“We discovered she lost 136 pounds in 150 days and [that] they knew when she was booked she had hypertension and schizoaffective disorder; it was already in their database.”
Sachanowicz said that her medication history while she was in custody was entirely blank.
“There was no treatment for Ms Dotson-Stephens,” he said.
Additional Reading: A Sentinel Events Approach to Addressing Suicide and Self-Harm in Jail.
Michael Sainato, a staff writer for the Guardian, is a 2019 John Jay/H.F. Guggenheim Justice Reporting Fellow. This is a slightly condensed and edited version of an article prepared for his Fellowship reporting project. Read the full story here.
Deaths Behind Bars Spur Concerns Across the U.S. syndicated from https://immigrationattorneyto.wordpress.com/
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riederstravis · 7 years
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Too Many Mothers Die in Childbirth
Mothers in the United States die in childbirth at higher rates than in other developed countries. Cliff Rieders, a partner in the Law Firm of Rieders, Travis, Humphrey, Waters & Dohrmann, has brought this directly to the attention of the Pennsylvania Patient Safety Authority. Cliff Rieders was a founding member of the Patient Safety Authority and served on the Board for 15 years. Cliff was President of the Pennsylvania Trial Lawyers Association, now the Pennsylvania Association for Justice, when the Mcare Act was rewritten to include the Patient Safety Authority. It was Cliff Rieders who insisted upon a Patient Safety Authority, and Pennsylvania’s was the first one in the country.
Every year in the United States, 700 to 900 women die from pregnancy or childbirth-related causes, more than any other developed country in the world. According to ProPublica and NPR, maternal mortality is more common among African-Americans, low-income women and in rural areas, but childbirth complications kill women of every race and ethnicity, education and income level. The rate of women who die has been rising.
All medical professionals involved with pregnancy, childbirth, and maternal care are held to national standards of care, and maternal health must be administered and monitored properly. Sadly, this does not always happen. If preventable injuries or death are caused by negligence, the doctor, nurses, anesthesiologist, medical facility, and hospital may be liable for personal injuries that are caused as a result.
If you or a loved one has suffered injury or death due to maternal care medical negligence, you may be entitled to compensation. The experienced and compassionate Pennsylvania maternal mortality medical malpractice attorney Clifford A. Rieders of Rieders, Travis, Humphrey, Waters & Dohrmann understands what you are going through. We offer a free consultation to help you investigate the cause and extent of the injury and determine the options available to make sure you secure maximum benefits and compensation.
What is Maternal Mortality?
Maternal mortality is defined as the number of maternal deaths per 100,000 births from any cause related to or aggravated by pregnancy, management during pregnancy, and childbirth, or that occurs within 42 days of termination of pregnancy. This statistic does not include accidental deaths.
According to the 2016 rankings based on the CDC’s National Vital Statistics System statistics from 2010-2014, the maternal mortality rate in Pennsylvania was 16.7, compared to the national rate of 19.9 per 100,000.
When Cliff Rieders brought the subject up to the Patient Safety Authority, he was shocked to learn that the Physician General of Pennsylvania does not keep such statistics. The Physician General agreed to look into the matter promptly.
What Causes Maternal Fetal Death?
An analysis by the CDC Foundation on maternal mortality data identified more than 20 “critical factors” that contributed to pregnancy-related deaths, including lack of standardized policies, inadequate clinical skills, failure to consult specialists and poor coordination of care. The average maternal death had 3.7 critical factors.
Deaths commonly were caused by heart problems, massive hemorrhage, blood clots, infections and pregnancy-induced hypertension (preeclampsia). Preeclampsia, a type of high blood pressure that occurs only in pregnancy or the postpartum period, can lead to seizures and strokes. Around the world, it kills an estimated five women an hour, but in developed countries, it is highly treatable. Britain has reduced preeclampsia deaths to one in a million — a total of two deaths from 2012 to 2014; but in the U.S., preeclampsia still accounts for about 8 percent of maternal deaths— 50 to 70 women a year.
The analysis found that there are many reasons for higher maternal mortality in the U.S., including:
Age. New mothers are older than they used to be, with more complex medical histories.
Planning. Half of pregnancies in the U.S. are unplanned, so many women don’t address chronic health issues beforehand.
C-sections. Greater prevalence of C-sections leads to more life-threatening complications.
Poor health care system. The fragmented health system makes it harder for new mothers to get the care they need. Hospitals are often unprepared for a maternal emergency and have erratic protocols for dealing with maternal complications.
Poor treatment. Confusion about how to recognize symptoms and treat obstetric emergencies leads to medical errors.
Lack of attention to mothers compared to infants. The 2016 Title V federal-state program devotes about 6 percent of block grants to programs for mothers, compared to 78 percent for infants and special-needs children. Medicaid often provides care for mothers for 60 days postpartum, while their infants are covered for a year.
Poor training. Some doctors in the U.S. can complete maternal-fetal training without ever spending time in a labor-delivery unit.
What is important is to have a cop on the beat. In many countries, there are very strict regulatory systems concerning doctors and hospitals so that the proper agencies know of neglect, do proper peer review, and take remedial action. In the United States, there is very little supervisory action by state medical boards, the Joint Accreditation Commission, or anyone else. Therefore it falls to lawyers and the patients to do something about negligence when it occurs. The legal system in the United States is the cop on the beat. Unfortunately, it can be very difficult to get information from hospitals and doctors, especially because of peer review immunities. Such immunities stand as an obstacle to patients with legitimate grievances.
What Can Be Done
Here are some suggestions that might help stem the tide of maternal deaths:
Increase vigilance for high blood pressure. Some leading medical organizations advise that a blood pressure reading of 140/90 for pregnant women with no previous history of high blood pressure signifies preeclampsia, and that when systolic readings hit 160, treatment should immediately start.
Increase vigilance for signs of deterioration such as swelling and rapid weight gain, gastric discomfort and vomiting, headache and anxiety.
Increase education and training for all labor and delivery nurses about preeclampsia, training for staff in Advance Life Support Obstetrics, and training on methods to assess patients and improve communications.
Increase care before pregnancy and in between pregnancies to address nutrition, exercise, healthy diet and weight, physical activity, quitting substance use, and preventing injuries.
According to the Philadelphia Department of Public Health, over 50 percent of women giving birth in Philadelphia are overweight or obese, and obese women are 50 percent more likely to have a surgical birth and experience complications such as preeclampsia or gestational hypertension.
Address the rise in elective C-sections.
Eliminate artificial barriers and hurdles to recovery in legitimate medical liability claims. Make it easier for experts to testify against doctors. Eliminate retaliation against doctors who testify for patients. Mandate that doctors provide proper information to their patients when needed in a medical liability claim. Eliminate the problems with electronic medical records. Eliminate secret peer review and make peer review available to other doctors, regulators and lawyers. Open the files of the databank to patients with legitimate grievances. Put the cop back on the beat.
Trust Our Firm for Answers
If you or a loved one has suffered an injury or someone has died due to maternal care negligence, you should seek legal assistance to ensure you get the compensation you deserve. Medical malpractice cases are complicated, as each person’s symptoms and circumstances are unique. Since symptoms change over time and evidence and witnesses disappear, it is important to contact an attorney experienced in medical malpractice as soon as possible.
Whether in gathering evidence, dealing with medical professionals and insurance companies, negotiating settlements or pursuing a favorable trial verdict, the experienced Pennsylvania anesthesia malpractice attorney Clifford A. Rieders at Rieders, Travis, Humphrey, Waters & Dohrmann is familiar with the law and thoroughly prepared and committed to achieving a just outcome. With our sizeable staff, we offer strength in numbers while providing top-notch personal service. We offer a free consultation to help you investigate the cause and extent of your injury and determine the options you have to secure lifetime benefits and compensation.
Do not delay. Contact Cliff Rieders at Rieders, Travis, Humphrey, Waters & Dohrmann by calling 1-877-962-9411 for a free consultation, or use our online contact form.
Based in Williamsport, we serve clients throughout Pennsylvania, providing a free consultation on all injury matters. More than that, we offer you experience, knowledge, compassion, and a long history of results.
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