Dear journal,
My friend was run over by an SUV…her own…that she was driving. This should not surprise you. She is after all, my friend, and birds of a feather do flock.
Flapping, T.
The emergency room is not really intended for non-screaming emergencies. They are more for the kind on television; GSW’s, RLJ’s, KRQ’s.[2] All others should be seen by their primary care physician.
…It should also not surprise you to hear that it happened while she was reaching into the vehicle to put it into park after exiting the vehicle, which she left in gear, while trying to speak on a cell phone, over the hubbub of children. Again, no surprise!
If you schedule your emergency during your physician’s four working days a week, between nine and five, but not during lunch, his assistant will begrudgingly fit you right in with a minimal two-hour wait. Unless, she reports gleefully, he is on vacation, at conference, golfing or vacationing on the boat you helped buy him.
…it should not be a surprise to hear that the vehicle pulled her under the front tire, rolled down over her left side and then dragged her. What was a surprise was that when it finally stopped, it was not on top of her, but inches away from her neck.
Again, no surprise that her primary-care-physician was unavailable and the face-less answering service recommended that she hop right on that medical merry-go-round. Their advice, “In the case of an emergency, please call 911.”
Let’s talk about the value of an ambulance. When you get hurt, you should not only be wearing your cleanest undies, but you must also be carrying your best purse.[3] Then disregarding your Mother’s second rule—the one about thrift—go ahead! Splurge and call an ambulance. Enjoy the ride; think of it as renting a really expensive Humvee limousine without windows.
…what is the real shocker is that she spent four hours sitting in a nicely furnished, suburban emergency room squished and bleeding and waiting to even be considered a “patient.”
What a pain in the spleen, T.
The key is in the handbag (a rare and most unusual place for any of my keys to be). A really great purse that arrives by ambulance can move you past the triage nurse and directly into the emergency room. A designer bag can get you into a bed and seen by an intern[4] in half the time it would take if you arrived at the hospital of your own accord and in your own private transport carrying a faux-leather off-the-rack.[5]
Our experience with near drowning is that it won’t get you seen any quicker—five hours. Stitches will average 3 ½ to 4 hours, depending on the bleeding. If you can pop and spread a couple of packets of catsup from the cafeteria, it may help.
The visible fracture of both bones in a three-year old’s lower arm took nineteen hours, because after four hours in the waiting room, her Mom caved and broke out a fruit bar for the child to eat.[6] True stories! mostly, Terina
Emergency room nurses follow the same basic premise as parents mediating a sibling battle. If you wait and be patient, given time most problems will resolve themselves... one way, or the other.
Reality Bite: Hospitals are only good when you’re too sick to care or it’s too late to matter.
[1] A triage nurse actually said that a more urgent case would be decapitation.
[2] Anything with initials is life threatening.
[3] A perfect place to exert your “purse-onality.” What does yours say about you? Mine says “Honey, you’re gonna die waiting for a doctor.”
[4] The going rate for a Prada is a resident.
[5] Buying faux funds terrorism, opposed to buying real which funds…?
[6] To conduct accurate scientific sampling, survey the Mom’s at the Park.
No comments:
Post a Comment