happened, but at the same time was relieved and grateful that our son was at
Columbia Presbyterian Hosiptal. We had no reason to doubt or be fearful of the hospital.
When my husband received his medical training, there was (as he later explained to me), layer upon layer of supervisors who insured that patients would be treated correctly and safely. My husband, who had received his training 30 years before, had not worked in a teaching hospital for many years and was unaware of the breakdown in the standards of medical trainee supervision that had occurred.
So it was with this lack of information that we entrusted our precious son to Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in the City of New York.
My husband had not understood why Seth had entered a medical crisis and had to be transferred to the ICU. When he went to the hospital, the "Director of the ICU" (in fact a second year resident named Tom Bertsch, who looked older than his years), reassured my husband that Seth was going to be "all right."
My husband visited Seth in the ICU several times and was told by one of the housestaff that they were "pleased with his progress."
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