Last week I went to the Emergency Room for a pain in my left side that was debilitating, not to mention causing me great difficulty breathing for two days. I didn't want to go. I really just wanted to lay in my bed and watch Hell's Kitchen, but before long, my family was over and harassing me to go see a dr. I couldn't keep up with Hell's Kitchen with my family hovering and talking, and I thought the ER might be a little quieter anyway. Most ER's have a television, so hopefully I would be able to catch the rest of my show there.
Scott and I checked in at 8:20pm. We sat as far away from everyone as we could. It seems that people lose all sense of modesty in an emergency room. It's disgusting. One man walked in wearing only his underwear, shorts in hand, and hunched over like he dislocated his shoulder. He looked like he could have been a decent, respectable man so I couldn't figure out why he didn't think he should put his shorts on before going out in public. I looked at him disapprovingly.
Then, entered a black family. Black people are like Italians. If one goes down, the whole family shows up. There were about 8 family members for a man who was already back in a room. Maybe he came via ambulance. After they all took turns, 2 at a time, visiting him, they all waited in the waiting room. Well, what is the sense of this? Shouldn't someone be keeping him company? And, I was right. The volunteer came out and said the patient would like someone to talk to. Yeah, I would think so. There's 8 of you, after all.
Next, a teenage kid comes in, wheeling himself in a wheelchair with his friends around him. He doesn't look like he's that hurt and I immediately label him as a pretentious punk jerk kid. He draws as much attention to himself as he can and lets everyone know that yes, he does need to see a dr, but he doesn't want to pay a $300 copay. Then, go home you stupid little asshole. And he better not get priority over me.
After waiting an hour, Scott says, "Next time we have to come to the ER, I'm carrying you in."
Finally, I was called back.
To wait some more.
I couldn't take it anymore. I put my clothes back on and we told the desk we were leaving and I would just follow up with a dr tomorrow (nevermind that I don't have a dr). The staff looked at me and said they thought the dr had been in to see me. That's so reassuring. I said no, filled out the paperwork they needed and was on my way by 10:30.
I hate the medical field. I hate seeing doctors and I think it's a total waste of time. We stopped at Walgreens on the way home so I could get some Ibuprofen and the next day I went to a doctor. She did an EKG and ordered x-rays, which absolutely made me 100 times worse. She prescribed me two steroids, which helped immediately, and I quit taking on the 3rd day. It was like, "Take 1 after breakfast, take 2 before lunch, take 1 before dinner and take 2 at bedtime. And that was just in one day. And one steroid. After waiting two more days for x-ray results, my diagnosis was musculoskeletal, which apparently means inflammation, which, to me, means they had no idea.
It's shocking to me how much is paid to insurance companies to pay for doctors to pay for malpractice insurance. All I wanted was a diagnosis and not to wait 2 hours in the ER waiting room for nothing and 2 days for x-ray results, which were to be given to me by the same lady who answered the phone at the dr's office.
And I don't even think it's just because I live in Alabama.
Alabama, for once...I'm not blaming you. Congratulations to the whole world. Our health system is crap.
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