COLUMN: In 'Knee's of Help

From Charlotte Druckman's "Putting It Bluntly," Fall '95 From Charlotte Druckman's "Putting It Bluntly," Fall '95Sometimes stories just fall into your lap. Or maybe you just fall and the incident provides you with a story. I am not looking for sympathy and, even though I enjoy complaining, that is not what all of this is about. I just think people ought to know what it's like to be incapacitated at Penn, what services the school offers and whether or not they are adequate. On the morning of February 6, I looked out my window to observe what appeared to be a Locust Walk cleared of snow. No need for boots -- or so it seemed. Knowing how klutzy I am, I should have been a bit more wary -- especially when I count the number of times I took a spill last year. In the middle of a leisurely walk over the 1920 Commons bridge, I slipped (whether it was ice, or salt, or simply that I don't know how to walk, I will never be certain, but I'm sticking with the ice story). Having an exceedingly low threshold for pain, I assumed I was overreacting when I thought my left knee was hurting, so I picked myself up, laughed at my clumsiness and kept on walking (or limping). My friends insisted that once I started moving it would feel better. Well, I walked all the way to Meyerson Hall, except my knee was getting worse as I progressed, until I couldn't bend it. Realizing that I couldn't go down the stairs to Art History class and that I kind of wanted to go back, get some ice and be a baby, I found a cab, barely got into it, and went home. After an hour of tears with my roommate, numerous phone calls to Mom -- whose initial response was "why weren't you wearing boots?" -- and some aspirin and ice, it was decided that I had to go to Student Health. There were a few problems: First of all, I hold a terrible grudge toward Student Health because last year I went there only to be misdiagnosed. While the doctor I saw insisted that there was nothing wrong with me but fatigue and a sniffle, I actually had walking pneumonia. And of course, people are always telling horror stories about how they went in with a twisted ankle and were given a mono test. Second, I could not move my leg and did not know how to get to Student Health. So my resourceful roommate called Student Health and it was advised that she call Penn Police. Using a wheeling desk chair, my friends helped me downstairs and we all piled into the squad car. I must admit, I felt a little guilty thinking that someone might be getting mugged down the street while I was using the police department as a limo service. I was seen right away. But, to my horror, instead of paying attention to the issue at hand -- the fact that I couldn't move my knee and that I was in excruciating pain -- the nurse began yelling at me about a Tetanus shot I did not think I needed for a superficial scrape (it was more like a skinned knee). I understand that no one wants to be sued, but when my cut was obviously minimal and when I was blatantly upset, it did not seem necessary for the nurse to say, "Fine. Well, don't come back here tomorrow complaining that you have lock jaw!" Great bedside manner. The icing on the cake was the subsequent visit from the same doctor who had told me to drink some juice last year when I actually needed antibiotics. Student Health shuffled me back and forth from their offices to HUP, and I was lucky I had friends to assist me or else I would have been in trouble. After X-rays at HUP, I returned to Student Health only to be told that I had broken my kneecap and might need surgery. Time to go back to HUP. Because I wasn't quite ready to be put on a stretcher at that very moment, and I was so mistrustful of Student Health, I called my mother and asked her to contact a doctor we know in Philadelphia to have him recommend a knee specialist. This was one of the more intelligent things I have done. Fortunately, I was able to bypass Student Health. But, it is horrible that I should have this attitude. On the one hand, it is wonderful that a university is able to maintain such a service and extend it to the entire student body, but on the other hand, if you are going to invest the money and effort to support such a practice and offer it to people, you ought to make sure it is functioning properly. The services provided by the school to help handicapped students move around campus are lacking in much the same way as is Student Health. In theory, the concept of Handi Van (a transportation vehicle for handicapped students) is fabulous, and the white van with the Penn logo on it is rather spiffy. But, when it cannot get you to class on time and it causes you to miss a mid-term, it fails in practice. And it doesn't make much sense: You are not allowed to call in advance and list your schedule, or where and when you need to be picked up, and even if you contact them one half-an-hour before you have to be somewhere, the van still may not be able to follow through. The controller laughed at me when I explained that I needed to be at class by a certain time. You never know when the van will come -- it may take three minutes, it may take forty-five. And, worst of all, Handi Van does not operate on the weekends. Either you are at the mercy of friends and desk chairs with wheels, or you may have to call the police. You could just stay in and take small excursions around the block for fresh air. Now, with the ice melted, the approach of spring and my splint coming off in one month, I am unable to be disappointed in this school for long. But that does not mean that there is not a necessity for improvement in areas such as medical care and sensitivity toward people who cannot get around with ease all of the time.