The ER: Now with only 2 hours waiting time!

What have been some of your experiences with the Emergency Room?

Last night I had a wonderful experience involving a suitemate who got drunk, then got over-the-top pissed when her booty-call didnt pick up. Long story made short, she decided it would be smart to punch the light in her room. After breaking the cover, she punched the light bulbs themselves. We wrapped up the suspiciously clean cuts across her hand and arm, but when she complained of a pain from the tip of her pinky all the way down to her wrist, we suspected a fracture, got our coats on, and dragged her ass to the Emergency Room at two in the morning.

Surprisingly enough, she was pulled into the back almost immediately after giving her information, and we only had to wait an hour and a half before she returned. I was expecting to be there at least until 5am, as my other emergency room visits have proven to be not so quick. In the past, my sister broke her arm and they left us sitting in the waiting room for at least 3 hours before they saw her. Another time, she couldnt breath, she waited for 2 hours in the waiting room, and then they basically forgot about her in the small room they placed her in, leaving her there for ANOTHER 2 hours. She finally just walked out.

I suppose that in retrospect, 2 to 4 hours isnt that bad of a wait. What are some of your ER horror stories? Or are you one of the lucky ones that has an ER that actually takes the whole 'emergency' thing seriously, and gets you right in?

Jam it back in, in the dark.

I waited 45 minutes when I thought I had a ruptured appendix. This was right at the start of the day too.

Luckily it wasn't that, I had a ruptured cyst, but I was still in the emergency room for ten hours. I got fairly decent care considering, but it just took so damn long. I'm betting a lot of emergency rooms are understaffed, considering.

Oh, while I was waiting for the triange nurse to triange me, there was an androgynous woman in a prison jumpsuit escorted by a couple of cops. She got into the emergency room pretty quickly, but I didn't overhear what was wrong with her.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

After a very nasty allergic reaction to a curry I was lied to about (it was doused in nut oil and MSG), I had to sit around for half an hour before I was given even an antihistamine pill.

Then they stuck an IV in my arm an hour later despite the fact that the pill had cleared up everything except the residual skin blemishes (which take a few days to go anyway) and the swelling around my throat (which takes a few hours). I sat there for four hours with the thing in my arm and nothing to do. I was eventually discharged at 4AM.

Any other stories? Tthere was the time I was having two abscessed teeth cut from my jaw under general anaesthetic. When I woke up, my mouth was full of blood. Normal, considering I had two bloody holes in my jaw already, right? No; they'd put a massive gash in the surrounding area of gum and hadn't noticed. I spat out a mouthful - an actual mouthful - of blood as soon as I realised it wasn't normal and I'd choke. They sutured that up immediately, thank fuck, but that they hadn't noticed in the first place...

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

Originally Posted by KrelEN

Any other stories? Tthere was the time I was having two abscessed teeth cut from my jaw under general anaesthetic. When I woke up, my mouth was full of blood. Normal, considering I had two bloody holes in my jaw already, right? No; they'd put a massive gash in the surrounding area of gum and hadn't noticed. I spat out a mouthful - an actual mouthful - of blood as soon as I realised it wasn't normal and I'd choke. They sutured that up immediately, thank fuck, but that they hadn't noticed in the first place...

That sounds horrible.
Imagine choking on your own blood. Ew.

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

Originally Posted by Temari

Another time, she couldnt breath, she waited for 2 hours in the waiting room, and then they basically forgot about her in the small room they placed her in, leaving her there for ANOTHER 2 hours. She finally just walked out.

I guess she could breathe after all, couldn't she?

Quote:

Or are you one of the lucky ones that has an ER that actually takes the whole 'emergency' thing seriously, and gets you right in?

Frankly, your suitemate's trouble was by comparison anything but an emergency. While in the meantime, doctors there do take the 'emergency' thing seriously and are busily tending to the people with far worse problems going on. They aren't just sitting around drinking coffee while someone's sitting in the waiting room complaining their pinky finger hurts or they broke their arm. Doctors that quickly treat people with lesser ailments like that would probably only do so because they've got nothing better to do. And more often than not, I bet they have someone with more serious problems to deal with, and that's why people wait as long as they do for things less serious.

Bottom line: The ER isn't like fast food or the pertinent TV shows where you're in and done in an hour, people.

I was speaking idiomatically.

Originally Posted by Syndrome

Imagine choking on your own blood. Ew.

Better than someone else's.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

I was admitted at about 00:30 one night and didn't get out until four in the morning. Apart from that, I've had pretty smooth running in terms of waiting times. I'm sure one of my brothers had to wait at least 6 hours before they admitted him though. In all fairness, it was a broken arm, hardly cause for immediate medical attention, but it wasn't as if the waiting room was filled with people bleeding to death.

FELIPE NO

When I was 18, I had severe abdominal cramps late one evening. I thought perhaps it was a mild flu and allowed the nausea to overtake me, as that sometimes makes the symptoms ease. However, they only became worse, to the point where I felt as though there was a literal bonfire in my stomach. I attempted to douse myself in cool water but nearly blacked out while climbing the stairs. It was then that I awoke my father and announced that I needed to visit the ER.

As I arrived, it was obvious that I was in some peril, so they tended to me immediately. I was shocked to discover that my temperature was 94.4 F, which is obscene. I wasn't running a fever at all; I was hypothermic. They gave me a dose of thick, white liquid to settle my stomach, the most powerful they had, I was told. Within ten minutes, I'd vomited it back up and the belly-fire intensified.

At this point, they called my primary physician, a pediatrician, for consultation. It was 3AM and he was presumably awakened from sleep. After hearing that I was in serious condition, he told the hospital staff that I'd recently turned 18 and was no longer a minor. His responsibility toward me was complete and I should be tended to by a resident. That fucker dropped me during an emergency.

At this point, it's worth mentioning that an elderly woman had also come into the ER with nearly identical symptoms. They did some X-rays and determined that she had acute gallstones which would require emergency surgery. As my symptoms were so similar, they concluded that we both had the same problem and they began to prep me for surgery - the surgeon would be performing a double-gallectomy.

As disoriented as I was, I knew those retards were out of their mind. I'd never had any gall bladder related issues before, so assuming that was the cause was highly negligent. I remembered that a specialist I'd been regularly seeing for years ran his own general practice on the side. I had the staff call Dr. McMahon and he quickly understood my situation. He arranged for my transfer to a more competent hospital where he'd oversee my care personally.

I was taken to the next county, given some intravenous antibiotics and fluids, and made to rest. Within twelve hours, I felt transformed. I was given a lunch tray and consumed the contents without any pain at all. All I needed was supervision and time - the illness had to pass on its own.

I was later informed that the lab cultures revealed I'd been suffering from an acute case of food poisoning, E. Coli to be precise. It made sense; I'd been offered free sausage pizza at a club function at college the previous day. It's very possible that the sausage was undercooked. I investigated and several others who'd eaten the pizza also experienced considerable pain.

But those morons at the local ER were going to remove my gall bladder with no more justification than having the same generic symptoms as someone else. Since then, if it didn't involve stitches, I've avoided that ER as much as possible.

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

I had to go to the ER a couple months ago. I went in at 12AM and left at 8AM for a 'stomach ulcer.' When I finally saw a doctor, they shot me up with morphine and gave me a GI cocktail, whatever that is, then proceeded to ask me questions while I was all doped up. I was just glad to have the pain gone.

The thing that got my attention, was the quick diagnosis they gave me (if you consider 8 hours quick lul), then I overheard the doctor telling the nurse "i get off in 15min," stomach ulcer my ass. He gave me a prescription for oxycontin and I was on my way. I then went to my regular doctor who said I just pulled a back muscle. Wondaful

This is why I avoid the ER if at all possible.

edit: i still have about 15 oxycontin pills. i am saving them for a rainy day. or when i want to zone out.

How ya doing, buddy?

My one "horror story" didn't involve a long wait, actually.

A few years ago I was walking home drunk from a party when a ghetto-ass van pulled up to my side and someone yelled out my name. I was sure I was gonna get kidnapped but it turned out to be my friend Danny who was about to go smoke some pot with a slew of other friends. Feeling I could be up for a little pick-me-up, I went. To paraphrase a potentially long and completely unneeded subplot: One of our buddies had an accident involving a gravity bong in a bucket, a makeshift stool that collapsed underneath him and he fractured his neck.

So, all of us high as fuck and me still a little drunk, we decide to pack into the van and drive our buddy Cesar to the E.R. because it looked pretty serious. We all carry him inside and he's not even conscious and they take him immediately. We're there for about 30 minutes and the E.R. doctor comes into the waiting lobby with a sheriff's department officer and comes to where we were. He explains to us that our friend suffered a mild neck sprain and that he'll have to wear a neck brace for a few weeks and that was that. Then he asks us point blank: "What were you boys doing when this happened?"

...
..
.

Being the one closest to sobriety in the entire group, I felt it was my responsibility to half-ass a story on the fly to offset the fact that there was a burly white man with a badge looking like he was ready to take a group of Mexican guys who I'm sure he could tell were high as fuck. However, I didn't even get a chance to formulate the sentence in my head before I just hear my friend Danny blurt out, "Uh... Uh... We were playing soccer!"

Really, Danny? Soccer? At 2:45 am on a Saturday night we were playing soccer? We're some VERY DEDICATED MOTHERFUCKERS, AREN'T WE?!?! I was convinced we were about to get arrested. In the end, the doctor just told us that he would be done patching up our boy and that we would be there for another hour. By the time that happened, we were all scared sober and drove home.

I don't even remember what the fuck happened after that. I just remember waking up in the van with a horrible headache and a half-finished 30 pack of Keystone in a cooler on the floor next to me. That's how I killed my hangover.

Additional Spam:

Originally Posted by IdleChill

...gave me a GI cocktail, whatever that is...

GastroIntestinal Cocktail. It's just a mixture of antacids and stomach-friendly painkillers usually used when you have an ulcer. That's what they gave me when I had mine back in college.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

I have another horror story, but it's more amusing than intimidating.

In 1999, I had a very bad period of illness and suffered considerable weight loss as a result. My doctor recommended that I get a "G-tube", or gastronomy feeding tube, inserted into my abdomen to facilitate extra nutrition while I slept. I went through with it and wound up with a hole in my external abdomen, around 1/2 inch in diameter.

In this hole, the tube was placed. Or, the access port, anyhow. However, the lifespan of each port is limited because part of it is always coming into contact with stomach acid. The tube is kept in place by a "back-balloon" that is inflated with saline. At full inflation, the port cannot escape the hole. But when the acid eats through the balloon, the entire device can fall out freely. This is bad, as the abdominal wall is nothing but muscle and the hole will contract and seal itself off within several hours if it's not kept open. When this happens, a trip to the ER is needed, where a new port is put into place.

One night, the back-balloon burst and the port fell onto the ground unexpectedly. It hit something and part of it broke off, making it unsafe to insert as a "stopgap" until a new port was acquired. Because I had to keep the hole open, I snapped an unused chopstick in half and pushed it through the hole. (This doesn't hurt.) I then went to the ER with my mother.

This isn't a high priority matter, so the ER staff usually had me sit around for a bit. Sometimes it could be a couple hours. I always brought my Gameboy. However, one time, I noticed a very large, tattooed man looking me up and down. I tried to ignore it but he kept staring. Finally, he spoke:

"Hey, why you in here? You look just fine."

I was really, really bored, so I decided to toy with the man.

"I was in a fight and got injured."

"Huh. My kid got shot in the leg. It ain't too bad but maybe it'll put some sense into his head. What kind of fight was it?"

"Oh, it was at one of those Chinese buffets. You know, the all-you-can-eat ones? I found some nasty hairs in the soup and complained. The manager didn't like it too much and he got pretty pushy."

"You look okay."

"No, he got me pretty good. Picked up a chopstick and stabbed me in the gut. I cleaned up the blood but it's in there solid. Here, let me show you."

I lifted my sweater and proudly displayed the chopstick keeping the G-tube hole open. The dude's face went ghost white and he sat straight up in his chair.

"THAT is some hardcore shit.", he said.

I laughed for a few moments and confessed to the truth. He admitted that it was a great story and that he never expected to see the chopstick poking out of my abdomen. He thought maybe I was one of those David Blaine type street magicians.

Half an hour later, I was fitted with a new port and was on my way home.

(I no longer have this device, as the need for it was gone by 2004. However, the hole still remains and it resembles a rather shocking bullet wound. It's completely sealed off, so it doesn't cause me any issue. I like to tell the unknowing that it's an injury from a long-settled turf war.)

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

The time a BMW ran over my foot I was stuck on the hallway of the ER for 4 hours waiting for a room. I was brough in at approximately 6PM, with a severly swollen foot and by the time I was into a room with the notion that the xrays are over and there was no need to do emergency operation, it was 2AM.

Most amazing jew boots