Truths: The chicken, the egg and the ER

So, I spent 6 hours in the ER yesterday. For 5 days I had been suffering abdominal pain. And by Sunday, I was doubled over in pain.

I worried going to the ER would be an embarrassing revelation: I really just had to go to the bathroom…but that was not the case.

I started at Urgent Care, mostly because the wait is shorter and I do think it costs less. However, after a quick diagnosis from the DR. – I was told that they didn’t have the equipment to make a proper diagnosis – I would need an ultrasound and maybe a CT.

So, reluctantly, we made our way a bit further down the street to the hospital emergency room – where, just like I envisioned, it was packed.

After a few minutes I was called into triage where I was able to explain my symptoms for the 4th time in 30 minutes – have my blood pressure re-taken and asked all the same questions about medications I take and if I do street drugs.

Even in pain I found myself curious so I asked, “Do people really admit to doing illegal drugs?”

“They sure do,” said the nurse, “You wouldn’t believe what people tell us and you wouldn’t believe how much heroin is in this town.”

Good to know. And, it came as a sick relief that my social drinking was the least of their worries.

20 minutes more of waiting and I was give a room and a gown…more time passed and one of the techs came in to start an IV and take blood. He was a bit cocky, I thought, and after some tapping of my veins and no regard for my opinion which was based on 10 years of giving blood and knowing what veins produced and what ones didn’t - he chose the ones that don’t and what a surprise to find that after two failed attempts and a whole of pain – he had to call in a nurse – who, you guessed it, chose the veins I would have.

Today I have three black and blues spots and two swollen veins.

About 40 minutes passed before a Dr. came in… and I was relieved to find that he spoke English and was genuine and sincere. He took my pain seriously and scheduled a number of diagnostic tests.

I won’t go into detail – but let’s just say that I endured multiple levels of gynecological care and diagnostic testing. Which is always less than desirable.

He offered up pain medications and I happily took them – only the nurse forgot and 25 minutes later I hit the call button to remind her.

That is when I came up with the idea that medical professionals should be paid less and then tipped for their services. You can bet the tech would get nothing and the Dr. would get at least 20%.

I mean it makes sense, right? If the medical professionals made a good portion of their wages on gratuity – I would bet that what took 6 hours yesterday would have taken 3 and I wouldn’t have been poked with a needle 3 times – only once, and no one would have forgotten my pain meds.

Waitresses tend to get it right more often than not.

One person who was extremely on top of her game was the registration lady – who just happened to be the one who took your co-pay…(as you are half naked in a gown with no back and are reaching for your purse on the other side of the room hoping that what is covered doesn’t flap open) funny they don’t forget that part of the procedure.

It’s interesting how when you are not in the profession – it is so easy to come up with ways to fix it.

The best news was that at no point in the 360 minutes I was there did anyone suggest all I needed to do was go to the bathroom – somehow the pain I was experiencing was beyond a bowel movement.

As the 6th hour came to a close and the not so pleasant tests were completed the Dr. came into the room to explain the results: I had a ruptured ovarian cyst.

Cysts are a normal part of menstruation until they become enlarged and rupture. This can cause extreme pain. I can attest to that.

The thing is, as far as they explained, there is nothing to be done about one – when it happens. Eventually the pain will subside (they gave me pain killers – which I will save and sell to the druggies who apparently live all over my town) and it will all get re-absorbed into my body.

However they did say it is important I make an appointment to see my gyne – ASAP. That, alone, is another story since I am not fond of the one I have… and need to find another – which I have been putting off as well as my annual exam – which might be why I was in the ER to begin with.

Anyway, the thing I liked about the Dr. – is that amongst all the craziness that was going on in the ER (though nothing like Grey’s) he sat down and talked with me. I mean really sat down and talked to me. The rest of the chaos outside could wait until he thoroughly explained that we could do another test, a CT, but he was fairly confident that this was the right diagnosis and he didn’t see the need to expose me to that kind of radiation. If I wanted the test – he would order it but, for now, he didn’t see the benefit.

He also reiterated that he would be in the ER the next day so that if my pain worsened – I should just come in and he would manage my case again – hopefully, without all the waiting.

I believe I have said it before – but a day in a real ER is nowhere near an hour of Grey’s Anatomy or Private Practice… No one really cares about your personal life – I didn’t get to share the pressure I am under to find a Mother of the Bride dress or any marital problems I may be having (I am not).

I guess I can just be satisfied about a few things: one, I didn’t embarrass myself by going into the ER – it wasn’t about bowel movements, it only took 6 hours instead of 8, and I was fortunate enough to have an ER Dr, who not only spoke English but was kind and caring and thorough – and that I didn’t have to calculate what 20% of the bill was to tip anyone.