So as you all may know by now, I really hacked up my thumb, but what's more hacked up is our healthcare system. I'm not talking specifically about health insurance, as this can be debated and argued as well. What i'm talkin' 'bout is the actual treatment you get when you need it. I would like to retell my story at the ER.........
It's 12:45pm
With a bloody hand and a wad of Marcal around my thumb, Mike Ryan helps me to a chair in the ER waiting room. Half conscious, i give Mike all my identification, including my insurance card. I can hear him urgently pleading with the secretary that i need immediate assistance and she tells him to sit and wait for the next available nurse.
15 minutes pass......30 minutes pass......by now, i am fully conscious and out of my initial shock. What replaces it is pain....lots of pain and eerie thoughts of my severed thumb. I look around and notice a half a dozen other sick people. But not at all what I imagined an ER waiting room to be... the other people were tame a little sluggish and all on their cell phones. The decor was was very well designed, including cherry and maple wood ceiling and wall panels, high end recessed eco friendly CFL lights, a 50" flat panel lcd tv, and two dozen cushy arm chairs......I had to double check the LED "Emergency Department" sign behind the front desk to make sure I wasn't in the Returns Department at IKEA........still unable to see a medical proffessional, I'm wondering, " does my insurance pay for this fabulous interior design?!"
About 45 minutes later, i'm finally escorted to the back room. I tell Mike as I leave him, "if i don't make it, tell my wife and kids I love them!" we laugh and then I tell him to get back to work, "keep my job warm! we can't afford this right now!" we laugh some more and I see the nurse. She's a little apologetic and tells me she didin't realize my condition because the scretary did not pass her my information....i'm thinking, "she's 12 feet away from you...and i'm the only one in the waiting room with a bloody arm in the air, squirming in my chair....what???!!!"
She tells me she's going to unwrap the paper towel and i tell her "this is very absorbent paper towel i think it's sticking to the wound"....i whimper like a girl, "please be gentle"....i turn my head away as she begins to unwrap.....it's sticking, i'm yelping, it's sticking, i'm yelling, she's apologizing, and i tell her to "knock me out! punch me in the face!"
She calls another nurse and asks if i should be taken upstairs....i'm thinking "upstairs?is this floor for amateur doctors? what's the difference?"
i later realize that "upstairs" refers to a fast track department, where "real" emergency care is administered, basically sifting out the people with a tummy ache to those who have lost limbs. i wish Starbucks would handle their coffee lines this way: people who want a "grande decaf soy macchiato with chocolate shavings" in one line and people who want a medium (not "venti") cup of coffee in another line
The other nurse tell the other that, "we can handle it here, it's booked upstairs"....i'm thinkng great let's get this thing sewed back up and I'm out of here......she rewraps my thumb in what she claims to be non stick bandage and tells me to sit back in the waiting rooma and i will be called shortly
15 minutes later a large black woman with blonde hair and glasses calls my name and tells me to meet her "at the second window on the left"....what! more paperwork?!...groaning now, she asks for my ID....i say, "I gave all my info to the secretary" she tells me she needs it again.....that lazy bitch!
i give it to her and almost immediately she asks, "full name please" i tell her my name"....K I M- m as in mary"....she asks for my home address ...i tell her "it's all on my ID!" she snaps like i'm an idiot and says, "oh I can't read that! it's too small!" what?1?>!?1...so for the next 5 minutes i'm telling her all my info again, spelling out the word "architect" and "michael" for her trying to keep my thumb elevated.....finally she tells me to be seated again and a doctor which she promises will see me
I enter the waiting room again...Mike's still there....."all sewn up!?" he assumes......"nope, i haven't even seen a doctor yet
we're both bewildered. it's 2:30 now...still haven't seen a doctor
5 comments:
Triage, and lazy jaded nurses.
Hey did the big black lady with blond hair smell like vanilla?
Had a nightmare once where this big black women that smelled like vanilla-rama was washing my feet.
Disturbing, gives me the chills just mentioning it.
Kinda reminds me of the show "Little britain USA." You tube it and look for the nurse/receptonist sketch
so...how did it end?!?!?!
I'll tell you how it ended...
"...frodo with the nine fingers... and the ring of doom!"
Hey, you would think because it was your left thumb, it wouldn't impeed so much.
Until you try opening car doors, or holding a beer bottle firmly as you try popping the cap, or rubbing your left eye, or tying your shoes, picking your left nostral, or turning on the hot water, or keeping it from stubbing someones ass as you ride the commuter train.
very true...it's been difficult doing all those tasks, but the most frustrating thing was getting dad to pick me up and drive me to and from the train station...he drives like a typical old asian man....giant car and slow as sh*t...when he makes a left turn, he's going so slow that when he finally accelerates, he has to turn the wheel back really quickly to avoid driving in the wrong lane
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