Part 1 of 3
Dr. A rolled his eyes.
It was last October, and he had just come across a triage note that said, “I have a tracker in me.”
Dr. A — we’re not using his name or identifying his hospital, which is in a major American city, to protect patient safety — is 28 years old, a resident and about as green as they come.
And he’s got a patient who claims she’s got a GPS tracking device implanted in her side.
“When you work on the east side of our hospital, psychiatric patients are a dime a dozen,” he said.
But this patient is different. She’s put together. She’s lucid. She’s got an incision.
A group crowded around the computer to see her x-ray.
“Embedded in the right side of her flank is a small metallic object only a little bit larger than a grain of rice,” he said. “But it's there. It's unequivocally there. She has a tracker in her. And no one was speaking for like five seconds — and in a busy ER that's saying something.”