NewCleRadio

Dear University Hospitals Patient Relations Team,

I am submitting this formal complaint to document a series of serious concerns regarding the care I received at both Ahuja Emergency Department and Main Campus Emergency Department beginning Sunday, August 9, 2026, as well as issues with the home care services arranged upon my discharge.

1. Lack of Basic Patient Safety Measures at Ahuja ER

• Upon arrival, I was placed in a room without a call button and left alone for extended periods.
• Staff frequently closed the door, leaving me isolated and unable to request help.
• During transfer between gurneys, neither gurney was locked, causing me to slip between them and experience additional pain.

Communication Barriers and Failure to Accommodate Hearing Needs

• My assigned nurse’s heavy accent combined with a face mask made communication extremely difficult.
• I informed her that I wear hearing aids, yet no effort was made to adjust communication or ensure I understood my care.
• This pattern continued throughout my stay at both facilities.

Repeated Failure to Contact My Emergency Contact

• I requested multiple times that staff contact my son, Steve Rogovin, listed in MyChart.
• I was assured this would be done, yet he never received a call at any point during my ER stay or hospitalization.
• As a recently widowed patient living alone, this lack of communication caused significant distress.

Extended Periods Without Information, Comfort Measures, or Basic Care

• After transfer to Main Campus, I was left in a hallway for approximately one hour.
• I received no updates after X-rays and CT scans, despite repeated requests.
• I was not offered water except with medication, and tissues were not provided even when requested.
• I was not given food until late afternoon on Monday, August 10, nearly 24 hours after arrival.

Inadequate Room Assignments and Lack of Communication at Hannah House

• I was placed in a semi-private room with a roommate in severe distress, making rest impossible.
• Neuro checks were performed repeatedly without explanation.
• I continued to receive no updates on my condition or treatment plan.
• Staff again failed to contact my son, even after I explained he was flying in to support me.

Unclear Diagnosis and Treatment Plan

• At Ahuja, I was told I might have a spinal fracture or pneumothorax.
• At no point during my hospitalization was I given clear information about whether these conditions were confirmed or what treatment was required.
• I remained hospitalized for several days without understanding why.

Problems with Home Care Services

• The home nurse (Latasha B., RN) arrived late, was unprepared, and could not take my vitals due to a broken blood pressure cuff.
• She appeared unsure of the purpose of her visit.
• I do not wish for her to return.
• OT services (Lynette P.) were excellent, but PT services (Francine L.) were ineffective, difficult to understand, and provided no meaningful benefit.
• I do not wish for her (Francine L.)  to return.

Systemic Concerns

Based on my experience, it appears that administrative priorities may be overshadowing patient needs. Critical issues include:

• Failure to provide call buttons
• Poor communication and lack of empathy
• Inconsistent use of patient room boards
• Repeated offering of unnecessary medication
• Lack of attention to hearing impairments and basic comfort needs

These issues created an environment that felt unsafe, dismissive, and at times inhumane.

Requested Follow‑Up

I respectfully request:

1. A formal review of the care I received at both Ahuja and Main Campus ER.
2. An explanation of the diagnostic findings related to the suspected spinal fracture and pneumothorax.
3. A review of staff communication protocols, especially regarding emergency contacts and hearing‑impaired patients.
4. A review of home care provider performance and reassignment of qualified personnel.
5. Confirmation of corrective actions taken to prevent similar experiences for future patients.

Closing

I am sharing this experience in hopes that it will lead to meaningful improvements in patient care, communication, and safety. My goal is not to criticize individual staff members but to highlight systemic issues that had a profound impact on my well‑being during a vulnerable time.

Thank you for your attention to this matter. I look forward to your response.

Sincerely, Karen (Kiki) Hale

711 Tinkers Lane

Northfield, Ohio  44067

Don’t Call Me a Wid0w – Part 14

My name is Karen, and I am a widow

Migraines and Widowhood

I’ve lived with migraines since my college days, having my first attack at 19. Back then, doctors believed they were triggered by an overactive thyroid. Over the years I went through thyroid surgery, swung between hyper- and hypothyroid, and saw more neurologists and pain specialists than I can count. Eventually the diagnosis shifted to mixed‑symptom migraines—fueled by stress, tension, and the way my body holds itself.

I’ve spent decades in and out of therapy, OT, and PT, weaving many of those tools into my daily routine. And still, when the pain hits, it slows me down. Even after fifty-plus years, it scares me.

When Rich was alive, he couldn’t take the pain away, but his presence helped me breathe through the worst of it. Just knowing he was nearby softened the edges. Now, when the migraines come—as they did yesterday and through the night—I face them alone. I kept repeating my mantra, this too shall pass, until I finally crawled out of bed around 5:30 a.m., hooked up my TENS unit, and took an Imitrex. Two hours later, the fog began to lift.

Today I’m choosing to move more slowly. I rescheduled an appointment so I could give myself the space I clearly need.

Stress is a strange companion. Sometimes we can feel its electric charge running through us; other times it hides until our bodies reveal it for us. When I mentioned to one of my sons that stress was attacking my nervous system, he asked, “What are you stressed about?” My first instinct was to say nothing. But the truth is everything—even when I think I’m handling it. Stress accumulates quietly, and for those of us who live with chronic conditions, it can cloud our mood, our memory, and our sense of stability.

I’ve worked through migraines that left me temporarily blind. I’ve pushed through days when the pain tried to dictate my life. But pushing too hard often leads to relapse, which is why today I’m choosing to be proactive instead of stubborn.

Being a widow—a word I still wish had a gentler sound—means reminding myself daily that I can do hard things. Rich taught me that. From the beginning, he pushed me to trust my own resilience. When I asked him a question, he’d nudge me to find the answer myself, even when I desperately wanted him to just fix the problem. He knew I needed to build confidence, not dependency. That loving guidance still echoes in me.

So, this morning, as I sat in my rocker with my TENS unit humming, coffee in hand, and a Housewives show playing in the background, I felt the tension slowly releasing. But I also sensed that doing too much too soon would backfire. Since I am the one responsible for my own well‑being now, giving myself a day of reduced responsibility isn’t indulgent—it’s necessary. Today, I am my own client, and I’m prescribing rest.

Chronic pain and grief are intertwined. Unresolved grief creates biological stress, and in my body that stress shows up as migraines and neuropathy. I’m learning to recognize this connection and to build new tools that make life gentler and less painful.

If you notice shifts in your mood or behavior, pause. Check in with yourself. Trace the discomfort back to its source. Become your own detective. Together, we can learn to reduce the stress that fuels our pain.

Please join me on my journey

#YesICan Coaching with Karen
Email: Kh.yesican1@gmail.com

Being a Widow – Part 14

Migraines and Widowhood

I’ve lived with migraines since my college days, having my first attack at 19. Back then, doctors believed they were triggered by an overactive thyroid. Over the years I went through thyroid surgery, swung between hyper- and hypothyroid, and saw more neurologists and pain specialists than I can count. Eventually the diagnosis shifted to mixed‑symptom migraines—fueled by stress, tension, and the way my body holds itself.

I’ve spent decades in and out of therapy, OT, and PT, weaving many of those tools into my daily routine. And still, when the pain hits, it slows me down. Even after fifty-plus years, it scares me.

When Rich was alive, he couldn’t take the pain away, but his presence helped me breathe through the worst of it. Just knowing he was nearby softened the edges. Now, when the migraines come—as they did yesterday and through the night—I face them alone. I kept repeating my mantra, this too shall pass, until I finally crawled out of bed around 5:30 a.m., hooked up my TENS unit, and took an Imitrex. Two hours later, the fog began to lift.

Today I’m choosing to move more slowly. I rescheduled an appointment so I could give myself the space I clearly need.

Stress is a strange companion. Sometimes we can feel its electric charge running through us; other times it hides until our bodies reveal it for us. When I mentioned to one of my sons that stress was attacking my nervous system, he asked, “What are you stressed about?” My first instinct was to say nothing. But the truth is everything—even when I think I’m handling it. Stress accumulates quietly, and for those of us who live with chronic conditions, it can cloud our mood, our memory, and our sense of stability.

I’ve worked through migraines that left me temporarily blind. I’ve pushed through days when the pain tried to dictate my life. But pushing too hard often leads to relapse, which is why today I’m choosing to be proactive instead of stubborn.

Being a widow—a word I still wish had a gentler sound—means reminding myself daily that I can do hard things. Rich taught me that. From the beginning, he pushed me to trust my own resilience. When I asked him a question, he’d nudge me to find the answer myself, even when I desperately wanted him to just fix the problem. He knew I needed to build confidence, not dependency. That loving guidance still echoes in me.

So, this morning, as I sat in my rocker with my TENS unit humming, coffee in hand, and a Housewives show playing in the background, I felt the tension slowly releasing. But I also sensed that doing too much too soon would backfire. Since I am the one responsible for my own well‑being now, giving myself a day of reduced responsibility isn’t indulgent—it’s necessary. Today, I am my own client, and I’m prescribing rest.

Chronic pain and grief are intertwined. Unresolved grief creates biological stress, and in my body that stress shows up as migraines and neuropathy. I’m learning to recognize this connection and to build new tools that make life gentler and less painful.

If you notice shifts in your mood or behavior, pause. Check in with yourself. Trace the discomfort back to its source. Become your own detective. Together, we can learn to reduce the stress that fuels our pain.

Please join me on my journey

#YesICan Coaching with Karen
Email: Kh.yesican1@gmail.com

Join us as we begin our search for BIG FOOT

While talking to my niece today she mentioned she is searching for her identity.  In the past 5 -6 years much has changed for her, and I understand her asking the question as many of us do, Who Am I.

I have asked myself the same questions for years, but I now know who I am:

I am a survivor, even when I feel myself sliding into depression I choose life and positivity.

I am a mother who is instinctive and intuitive ready to show up for my sons.

I was a wife/partner who loved my husband deeply and continue to.

I am a storyteller, I believe our journey is important to share and learn from, as we write it we see the life we want to live.

I am a life coach and even before my degree and certifications I believed in agency, honesty, boundaries and the growth for myself and others.

I am a woman navigating a new path with courage thanks to the support of and love from parents, siblings, my husband and my children, those that are with me in whether in person or spiritually.

I am a deep thinker, over thinker and learner – I open my heart in loving kindness.

9 March 2026

While talking to my niece today she mentioned she is searching for her identity.  In the past 5 -6 years much has changed for her, and I understand her asking the question as many of us do, Who Am I.

I have asked myself the same questions for years, but I now know who I am:

I am a survivor, even when I feel myself sliding into depression I choose life and positivity.

I am a mother who is instinctive and intuitive ready to show up for my sons.

I was a wife/partner who loved my husband deeply and continue to.

I am a storyteller, I believe our journey is important to share and learn from, as we write it we see the life we want to live.

I am a life coach and even before my degree and certifications I believed in agency, honesty, boundaries and the growth for myself and others.

I am a woman navigating a new path with courage thanks to the support of and love from parents, siblings, my husband and my children, those that are with me in whether in person or spiritually.

I am a deep thinker, over thinker and learner – I open my heart in loving kindness.