Tuesday, December 30, 2014

The Good, The Bad, And The Bug-Me

Hey! Did you hear? The #1 son was at the ER on Saturday AND Sunday! Yep! Because the Hillbilly family is made of money, and doesn't believe in general practitioners. NOT! Since I only went with #1 on Sunday, I can't vouch for Farmer H's shift.

Here's the scoop on my experience.

The Good.
Once we got to see an actual doctor, he was very, very good. I swear I thought his colleagues referred to him as Dr. Greencard. His name was something like that, but he did not seem to be foreign. He asked for symptoms, he did an exam, he outlined his plan, and he left. His orders were carried out with reasonable swiftness. He popped in every now and then to share the latest test results, and enlighten us on the next step. I would rate him a 10 out of 10 for knowledge, bedside manner, and confidence.

The Bad.
The nurse who called #1 in for a history and vitals was pretty full of herself. She asked him what was done for him when he was in the ER on Saturday. He listed his two meds. She turned to me and said, "Did he TAKE them?" When he described his symptoms for her, she said, "Sounds like a migraine." In fact, she said this no less than five times while we were in that assessment room. And each time, she kind of giggled. She even found a way to wedge that in after asking the name of his regular physician. "You ought to make an appointment with Dr. M. He's good at straightening out that migraine stuff." I didn't know it at the time, but apparently #1 sent his college buddy a text that said, "And you're not a doctor. You're here to take vitals and type in the results. You could be replaced in two days by a machine."

She did not like it when I questioned her diagnosis. "He's never had a migraine before. I didn't think they go on for eight days. It was in the back of his head, and has spread to all over his head." Again, the laugh. To put me in my place, I guess. Later, she had a woman/husband in there for what I presume was shortness of breath. She sent them out with the woman pulling an oxygen tank, a cannula on her nostrils. Once that woman had sat down in the waiting room, Bad Nursie opened up her triage door again and said pointedly, "You left your purse in here." No move to bring it to her. No, 'Sir, your wife left her purse.' Nothing resembling politeness or caring. The Pony would have showed more compassion, and he has no interest at all in helping people. That poor nasal cannula woman schlepped her air tank over there to get her own purse. I can understand that employees are probably instructed not to touch a patient's things...but the level of disdain was disturbing. She acted like that purse had been trampled around the hog lot for a week.

The Bug-Me.
While we were waiting in the waiting room, a young mother brought her 15-month-old daughter in. They stopped at the front window. Then they were buzzed through the double doors. They came back shortly, the Young Mother carrying a take-out food dish, like a salad. I assumed they were visiting someone who had been brought to the ER. Young Mother approached a lady sitting at a table in the middle of the room. "Do you mind if we sit here?" Lady didn't care. So Young Mother plopped down her offspring, who I originally thought was a boy, until YM got to announcing her business to whomever cared to listen.

At first I had thought, "What kind of person brings a little kid to the ER with all these germs flying around?" The kid had a medium-brown bowl haircut. Seemed to be taking it all in. In fact, it may surprise you to hear that I am not a fan of other people's kids, but I thought this one was behaving quite well. YM pried the lid off that food, and gave the kid a couple of bites. The kid got wiggly, so YM set her on her knee while she talked and gestured to the folks in the line of chairs facing the table. We were slightly behind the table, off to the side. I had a great view of the kid.

That kid was having a heyday. Grabbing handfuls of noodles out of that food container, sometimes even getting a couple in her mouth. Most of them were simply smeared around her face, then fell back into the container. Every now and then she tried eating those noodles with the plastic fork, without much success. I was not so absorbed in kid-watching that I didn't hear YM tell those people, swapping reasons for their ER visit: "I just had to bring her in. I haven't been able to stop her crying or get her to eat anything all day. I think she has a touch of an ear infection." Meanwhile, kid was chowing down, happy as a clam, not one whimper from her the entire time they'd been there.

That is why we can't have nice ER visits. Chow Kid was called back at the exact same time as #1 and his alleged migraine killer headache. I think Bad Nursie had a hand in that.

4 comments:

  1. I think you need to send Bad Nursie a note letting her know in no uncertain terms that:

    * She will nevernevernever get any of your famous Chex mix

    * She will never be allowed to go on the Mansion tour. No chance to gape at the gas station chicken. No opportunity to get within fondling distance of the Gator. No invitation to pose by Embee. Never!

    She really blew it...

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  2. Sioux,
    If only she knew, Madam, the can of worms she unloosed that day!

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  3. While I have to admit to crawling under the desk in the nurse's station to hide from some of the repeat visitors to the ER ......
    I was never rude or condescending to the people waiting. How hard is it to be nice? How difficult to stick your head out the door and apologize for the long wait when an ambulance brings in critical patients? Hated working with "bad nursies", and I have known more than a few.

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  4. Kathy,
    It's like they didn't want to find out what was wrong with him. FOUR shots of morphine to get rid of a headache. Something wasn't right. He's been getting a little better each day. Cutting back on the pain meds.

    I knew, and even told him, that the short-of-breath lady would get in before him, and that old lady in a wheelchair with her right arm quivering. Those other people seemed to think it was first-come, first-serve. I mean, you have the flu and feel crappy, but you're not in danger of your brain possibly exploding.

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