Abrazo Maryvale Campus

Long story short, I woke up on Christmas Eve of 2014 with Bell’s Palsy — an onset of paralysis in half your face. After being turned away from the only open places for lack of insurance, I finally went to the ER here out of desperation. It was a ghost town, and the staff was kind to me and assuring me I wasn’t having a stroke (which is great since I’d been driving around for about two hours at that point being rejected by UrgentCares).
I get into the ER bed/​stall thing, and they get a few more urgent emergencies — and I waited, because honestly, I don’t want to be bad off enough to beat out Captain Alcohol Withdrawal and the case of the Cake-​binging Diabetic Coma across the way.
The doctor was thankful for my patience, and said someone would be in. And after about an hour and a half sitting there alone, a nurse goes, «Why is she still here?» Uh.
Finally, the doctor comes in, and in about ten minutes, not only diagnoses me, but tells me what I can do (which is nothing but take some steroids for a few days and hope for the best), gives me my prescription, and I am discharged. Generally speaking, the staff was fairly pleasant, but I think being not a complete asshole of a patient and being only one of 5 people in two hours probably helps.
I get to the financial dept on my way out, and they tell me I owe them $ 800+ dollars. I burst into tears, I had spent all my money to have Christmas. They ‘did me a huge favor’ and reduced it to $ 450, and put me on a payment plan of $ 50/​mo, which at the time I was in school, it was kind of a lot for me, but they’d take no less. I thought it sucked to get charged that much, but at least I had peace of mind I wasn’t having a stroke, right?
Flash forward another week, I received a $ 655 bill for physician’s services. LOL. So I call the hospital, and the friendly finance lady was either not there or turned into a snarling werewolf, not sure which.. I finally get told I can «dispute the charges» by someone in a completely different billing dept (which, yes, the hospital charges you itself and the physician charges you from a billing company in another state). So I write my letter, explaining I really received ten minutes of care of a, I quote, «textbook case» of Bell’s Palsy, and that frankly, the charge was out of my price range. Of course, they never contacted me or acknowledged they got the letter (I got a tracking number and I know they did), and I can’t access any information on it, because I don’t have anything but a number that links to no case (at least according to the billing company’s site.) I wrote another letter (and again, tracking number to confirm it got there) and inquired again about the status a week later (as per instructed). Well, the time to dispute had elapsed, and I was sh*t out of luck, I guess. Already in collections! A few weeks later, the grant I was on to go to school got defunded (thanks gooberment!), and I had to make up some money, and had to miss a payment on that first bill — they sent it immediately to collections even though I had communicated with them that I would continue making what payments I could.
Now, my credit is ruined, I am constantly harrassed by bill collectors from both parties, and guess what? The $ 250 I paid towards the first bill magically disappeared from the balance owed and they’re asking me for the full $ 450 again.
Why this review so late, you ask? Because I’m 29, and I have to live in my mom’s house until I come up with $ 1000+ (for TEN MINUTES OF CARE) so I can fix my credit to get an apartment again.
Thanks for nothing and making me sorry I was a decent, patient human being. You didn’t earn $ 655, doc, and the hospital sure as hell didn’t earn $ 450 either. Hell, I don’t think anyone even took my vitals.
If any customer service rep even monitors this, I would *LOVE* to hear from you and hope you and your organization would be willing to resolve this issue reasonably and for a more reasonable price.

Holy s#%* this hospital sucks the ER is old and dirty. The staff is rude. I would never go here if your able. I’d rather die. Martha in the ER was the worst nurse I’ve had ever in my life.

The verdict of this place is going to remain out as my family and I just visited Maryvale this past weekend and our loved one is currently still admitted.
I don’t know if it’s appropriate to say that you’ve had the «pleasure» of visiting a hospital per sé however, what I can state w/​wholehearted conviction is that I’m indeed happy that the team of professionals taking care of my loved one, were assigned this case.
I felt an overwhelming sense of warmth as we were all greeted upon walk-​in. Aside of the facility’s being clean and free of hazards, the location itself didn’t come across as being one of those bland, sterile facilities just around long enough to provide mediocre care thereon disseminate a lump sum of fees and be on to the next person.
What I sensed here, in short was «care».
I don’t profess to work in the medical industry by any means. In turn, I alongside each of us collectively possessed our own array of questions.
Compliments to Shannon (aka: Jill Scott) within the ICU Dept. specifically, as it takes a special level of training let alone tact to «break things down» for each of us and update us all on any such progress… or lack thereof.
Typically hospitals waft that feeling of someone’s just being a «number» as opposed to a «person», however that was not the case here and I bear a high appreciation for the level of care that they seem to be providing.
Additional star for the facility offering «free parking»; not the case in Los Angeles and Orange County, California.
Thanks all—

My girlfriend and I were visiting arizona and she is 11 weeks pregnant and she has allot of pain in her back and we got picked up by the piramedic’s. We got to the hospital and the nurse was rude and the doc didn’t want to help her. He could see that she was laying there in pain. The only treatment he performed was lifting her leg up and bending it. 5 min later we were discharged. I will never return here and everyone has been warned I found out that we should have gone to thunderbird

If you want to trust your life to nurses who can’t figure out why the patients O2 saturation is dropping… go for it. Oooops check to see if the tubing is connected to the O2. Go ahead nurse, you can do it.
If you want to sit in your own poop or urine and do without water or a blanket because the cna has already been to your room once, go for it.
The guy in charge of ICU would use only ONE mode of ventilation… volume control. REALLY??? And you are in charge of ICU!
I could list a lot of things that would say, RUN FOREST RUN but… I’ll just say I’d rather die on the street before I went to Maryvale hospital.
It is still Scaryvale!

Are you kidding me. This place just held my mother-​in-​law hostage until she paid her $ 150 bill. Are you kidding me. Send her a bill like every other hospital does. Not all of us have money on us at the time of need for medical attention. Thank for the care that your staff was so trained for. Next time she would rather have died instead of going there again.

Staff is great. Parking is good and cleanliness was also pretty good. I know this hospital is older and on an older neighborhood but the people that work here are fantastic. I would definitely recommend it or deliver my second baby here.

Over the years I have had several procedures completed by various staff members at Maryvale Hospital Medical Center, but it has been over the course of the past year or so that I have had nothing but exceptional care in the laboratory.
Being a highly tattooed individual, successful blood draws are at best difficult. However, there is one individual in particular — her name is Coleen — that always draws from me on the first attempt. There is no vein fishing or multiple sticks to be had. She asks questions and listens to your comments. On short, she is amazing.
I live 45 miles from said hospital and take the time to drive into town because I know I can receive the level of care I appreciate from her.
So to you and the staff, thank you.

I went here only because it was late at night & it was the nearest hospital to my home. I have to admit I was pleasantly surprise how quickly I was called for vitals & history. I had a wonderful nurse who sincerely showed concern for my complaint. The ER doctor was equally as concerned and knowledgeable about what to do for the infection in one of my incision after my recent femoral bypass.

I will admit, before going any further, this review is biased.
Because I fucking hate hospitals.
Not only because they are Valhallas of corporate greed wherein people must buy in to be allowed the right to live staffed with trained professionals who take oaths to help and nurture but won’t hesitate to deny treatment to LGBT individuals, but also because they are strongholds of suffering and human misery.
That and they smell funny. Like generic, corporate hotels. That «there is no life in this room because we have sterilized it of everything, even personality» smell.
When my mother was scheduled for surgery at Maryvale, I was a little worried. My hang-​ups with hospitals aside, Maryvale is just an unpleasant place to be. I once had a gun pulled on me while dropping off a library book.
It takes a very special brand of stupidity to motivate someone to mugging. Any other idiot would have realized that the book I was holding was worth more than the 2 dollars in change in my pockets.
Getting to the hospital was a fucking travesty. There are like ten openings in the parking lot but only one viable entrance.
All the the entrances to the hospitals are lined up on the same driveway. So I nearly got plowed by an ambulance while dropping my mother off to check in.
I don’t want to sound nit-​picky, but if you’ve got a guy in your vehicle who’s spleen is hanging out, maybe you should have your own lane. Maybe.
What was originally scheduled for a one-​hour outpatient procedure became a three-​hour ordeal as both the anesthesiologist AND the surgeon were both stuck in traffic.
This required long periods of sitting in the SCU waiting room, watching Governor Blagojevich’s career go down in flames on MSNBC as I stared at the vending machine and asked myself whether I would rather kill myself with Twix or chili cheese fritos.
I ended up deciding on twizzlers.
While I waited for some word on my mother’s condition I was visited by ssomething-​like-​but-​not-​necessarily a hospitality coordinator. She tried so hard to get me to take some of the cookies or coffee in her cart, but I was just too nervous to eat.
Not surprisingly, she was the only staff member who seemed at all concerned with keeping me calm and informed.
When I would walk up to the counter to see if I could get a status update on my mother, the receptionist would sigh, look up from her paper snowflakes project and look at me as if I just shit in her corn flakes.
Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your tacky holiday reverie. Just curious, you know, if my mother, who should’ve been out of surgery TWO HOURS AGO, is doing okay. Silly me. I’ll go back to the waiting room. I’m really curious to see how that bailout works out.
While I waited for some word I went to the cafeteria.
It’s worthy to note that the ground floor of Marvyale Hospital is floor 2, not floor 1.
So I spent twenty minutes wandering around looking for something to eat and only finding radiology and urology labs.
That shit doesn’t even make sense to me, and I lived in Europe for most of my childhood.
I didn’t get anything in the cafeteria, as the grill had closed. When I went to pay for my cup of horchata, the doctor in front of me let me pass him.
«Are you sure, man? I don’t want to make your break even shorter than I imagine it is.»
«Actually, this is the only way I GET a break. The sooner I pay for that and eat it, the sooner I gotta get back up there.»
As phobic as I am of doctors, even I find it a little retarded that the asshole scrambling eggs in the cafeteria gets a longer break than the guy saving lives.
When one of the nurses sought me out, I was given a sheet of all the things I would have to watch out for.
Keep up liquids, check. Call if there’s any tingling sensation while urinating… uh, check. No sexual intercourse.
YOU ARE AWARE THAT I AM HER DAUGHTER, RIGHT?
This awkward odyssey ends three hours later than it should have, with me driving my doped up mother home and then leaving her there while I finished up with my finals.
In the end of all this, I can be grateful about one thing; when I eventually get my SRS done, it WILL NOT be at Maryvale Hospital.