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I was back in the emergency room at 5 am Monday morning (second bout of acute bacterial bronchitis). Mondays mornings at home are bad enough, but there's nothing like a Monday morning in ER to start your week off with a real bang. But since I was having trouble breathing, I thought it best to go in. (It has reached a point where they don't even ask for my ID anymore. I am now a known, repeat customer at my local ER. Lovely.)
The waiting room was empty, so the triage nurse saw me right away. Unfortunately, she seemed to have a hearing problem, as follows:
TN: Do you smoke?
Me: No.
TN: Does anyone in your home smoke?
Me: No.
TN: Do you have asthma?
Me: No.
TN: What medications are you taking?
Me: *List off a couple, including my inhaler from the last trip to the ER.*
TN: Okay, so you have asthma.
Me: No.
TN: Then why do you have an inhaler?
Me: Because I was just here about three weeks ago with a combination of the flu and bronchitis and I was developing pneumonia.
TN: Oh. And you smoke?
Me: No. *metaphysical facepalm*
They decided that putting the woman with the non-stop coughing in the bed next to the girl with the non-stop vomiting was a great idea. I was coughing so hard at one point that I started dry heaving. Awesome.
After a breathing treatment, I was able to partially recline and I dozed off. The Lab Tech +10 came in while I was dozing and did something no other tech has ever done: she got a vein in my arm on the first try, got the sample, and didn't leave me with a bruise. I actually only stirred during the stick and dozed right back off. I now have a massive girl crush on her.
The RN was the awesome young woman I had had a couple of visits back. Yes, she remembered me. (This could be good or bad.)
The doctor was nice, straightforward and on top of things.
I was able to walk straight through my room, across a hall and straight into xray, and got the pictures on the first try.
But then it happened: shift change. Shift change means everything gets delayed. You end up having to repeat most of what you've already covered to the new nurse and the new doctor. And my new nurse was interesting.
There wasn't anything obviously wrong with her, she was pleasant enough, but if I had to work with her, I'd probably spend most of my shift wanting to smack her. The following made me wish I had gone to the ER earlier:
1. I'm seriously enjoying the whole sleeping without coughing up mucus every thirty seconds. I am drowsily happy, not a common feeling in the ER. The morning shift nurse walks in with a bright, loud, "Good morning, I'm [Little Mary Sunshine]. How are you doing?" Seriously? I'm lying on a glorified gurney, pasty white, congealed sweat coating me, sounding like a broken squeezebox when I breathe, listening to the diabetic girl in the bed next to me puke her guts up for the 20th time. And now, all I want to do is whack you with the IV pole and go back to sleep. I murmur, "I'm alive," and shut my eyes again.
2. Because of my heart murmur and breathing problems and somewhat low pulse ox, the doctor decides to get another blood test. Of course, the LabTech of Awesome has gone home. Crap. LMS decides she will do the draw. Crap. She starts wrapping my arms, slapping my veins, and finally decides she can't do it. She asks another nurse, M, to do it for her. He's nice, but his skills aren't much better. I tell him flat out, "Use my wrist, my hand, I don't care. I know my veins are crap for draws." He grabs a butterfly and tries my arms. No go. Now, the thing is, he's not a small guy. I'm chunky, so I know that I have to be extra careful moving around in narrow spaces. He's bent over trying to get the vein, which is apparently rolling away from him. Just then, LMS comes bounding back in. LMS is no sylph. As she goes to visit the girl next to me, she manages to soundly whack her ass into M's ass, while he's got the damn needle in my arm. "Oh, sorry," she trills.
M decides to try my hand, so he grabs a hypodermic and bends over me again. Just as the needle goes in, LMS once more bounds in, and repeats the whole ass whacking incident. WTF?! I try not to freak at the thought of a needle ripping the vein in my hand. M manages to hold the needle and my hand still, and quietly tells LMS that he's still trying to get the sample. "Oh, sorry." Finally, he gets the sample and gives it to LMS, who sets it up in the machine on the counter to run.
3. I hear her make arrangements with at least two other nurses to trade off duties. She seems to either be unable or not want to do certain duties. I'm all for trading off if you know someone is better at something, but I'm trying to figure out how a nurse with this much apparent experience is unable to do so many things. I would dread working a shift with someone like this.
4. She comes back to check the blood test and announces that it looks like the machine isn't working. She gets M and tells him they made need another draw. I almost wish I was an IV drug user so I could offer to do it myself. M suggests that LMS give the machine a little extra time. Whew.
5. The new doctor seems knowledgeable, but the entire time he is talking to me he is leaning against the counter, staring off into space, and rhythmically tapping his cheek with his index finger. He never actually looks at me. Okey dokey.
6. LMS comes in with prednisone and a new inhaler with a spacer. She gives me the prednisone and a cup of water. I take the pills but she doesn't take the cup. There is no table or anywhere for me to set the cup. Meanwhile, she is busily opening the inhaler to demonstrate the spacer, chatting away, even though I told the doctor and her both that I had used a spacer before. I finish the water and set the cup on the bed, because it's pretty obvious LMS is doin' her thang, and I could have a seizure and fall off the bed without her noticing. She finally gets the package open. Then, not for the first time, I wonder what the hell runs through LMS's mind? She starts taking the spacer apart. She pulls off the silicone on the end where the inhaler goes to show me, well, what? I don't know. She puts it back on, apparently finding nothing to really inform me about. She opens the inhaler and attaches it, then walks me through using it. The wrong way. I decide that smiling and nodding is my best way to go. It works.
By the time I left, it was after nine am, so I drove out of the parking lot, across the street, and went up to see my doctor. They squeezed me in and he reviewed the meds, made a couple of changes, and sent me to the pharmacy. I went to the CVS in my Walmart tuxedo, then went home to bed. And slept. Despite the prednisone and the albuteral, I finally slept.
Once last bit of funny. The last time I was given prednisone, I was awake for the next 36 hours straight. My doctor gave me a prescription for a low dose of temazepam, telling me to take one, but if one didn't work, then take a second, no more. That night, I took one. I wait for a little over an hour, but nothing. I take a second. I wait about half an hour. Nothing. Well, nothing until I attempt to stand up. I do the drunk weave. I am swaying. Very carefully, one measured step at a time, I walk to the kitchen. It took three tries for me to turn on the light switch. I then carefully made my way to bed and slept, except for when I would wake up coughing, at which time I would have brief dreams of a man-sized creature that was a cross between Swamp Thing and a head of lettuce that was in earnest discussions with a nerdy looking guy. *headscratch* I absolutely have no clue.
The waiting room was empty, so the triage nurse saw me right away. Unfortunately, she seemed to have a hearing problem, as follows:
TN: Do you smoke?
Me: No.
TN: Does anyone in your home smoke?
Me: No.
TN: Do you have asthma?
Me: No.
TN: What medications are you taking?
Me: *List off a couple, including my inhaler from the last trip to the ER.*
TN: Okay, so you have asthma.
Me: No.
TN: Then why do you have an inhaler?
Me: Because I was just here about three weeks ago with a combination of the flu and bronchitis and I was developing pneumonia.
TN: Oh. And you smoke?
Me: No. *metaphysical facepalm*
They decided that putting the woman with the non-stop coughing in the bed next to the girl with the non-stop vomiting was a great idea. I was coughing so hard at one point that I started dry heaving. Awesome.
After a breathing treatment, I was able to partially recline and I dozed off. The Lab Tech +10 came in while I was dozing and did something no other tech has ever done: she got a vein in my arm on the first try, got the sample, and didn't leave me with a bruise. I actually only stirred during the stick and dozed right back off. I now have a massive girl crush on her.
The RN was the awesome young woman I had had a couple of visits back. Yes, she remembered me. (This could be good or bad.)
The doctor was nice, straightforward and on top of things.
I was able to walk straight through my room, across a hall and straight into xray, and got the pictures on the first try.
But then it happened: shift change. Shift change means everything gets delayed. You end up having to repeat most of what you've already covered to the new nurse and the new doctor. And my new nurse was interesting.
There wasn't anything obviously wrong with her, she was pleasant enough, but if I had to work with her, I'd probably spend most of my shift wanting to smack her. The following made me wish I had gone to the ER earlier:
1. I'm seriously enjoying the whole sleeping without coughing up mucus every thirty seconds. I am drowsily happy, not a common feeling in the ER. The morning shift nurse walks in with a bright, loud, "Good morning, I'm [Little Mary Sunshine]. How are you doing?" Seriously? I'm lying on a glorified gurney, pasty white, congealed sweat coating me, sounding like a broken squeezebox when I breathe, listening to the diabetic girl in the bed next to me puke her guts up for the 20th time. And now, all I want to do is whack you with the IV pole and go back to sleep. I murmur, "I'm alive," and shut my eyes again.
2. Because of my heart murmur and breathing problems and somewhat low pulse ox, the doctor decides to get another blood test. Of course, the LabTech of Awesome has gone home. Crap. LMS decides she will do the draw. Crap. She starts wrapping my arms, slapping my veins, and finally decides she can't do it. She asks another nurse, M, to do it for her. He's nice, but his skills aren't much better. I tell him flat out, "Use my wrist, my hand, I don't care. I know my veins are crap for draws." He grabs a butterfly and tries my arms. No go. Now, the thing is, he's not a small guy. I'm chunky, so I know that I have to be extra careful moving around in narrow spaces. He's bent over trying to get the vein, which is apparently rolling away from him. Just then, LMS comes bounding back in. LMS is no sylph. As she goes to visit the girl next to me, she manages to soundly whack her ass into M's ass, while he's got the damn needle in my arm. "Oh, sorry," she trills.
M decides to try my hand, so he grabs a hypodermic and bends over me again. Just as the needle goes in, LMS once more bounds in, and repeats the whole ass whacking incident. WTF?! I try not to freak at the thought of a needle ripping the vein in my hand. M manages to hold the needle and my hand still, and quietly tells LMS that he's still trying to get the sample. "Oh, sorry." Finally, he gets the sample and gives it to LMS, who sets it up in the machine on the counter to run.
3. I hear her make arrangements with at least two other nurses to trade off duties. She seems to either be unable or not want to do certain duties. I'm all for trading off if you know someone is better at something, but I'm trying to figure out how a nurse with this much apparent experience is unable to do so many things. I would dread working a shift with someone like this.
4. She comes back to check the blood test and announces that it looks like the machine isn't working. She gets M and tells him they made need another draw. I almost wish I was an IV drug user so I could offer to do it myself. M suggests that LMS give the machine a little extra time. Whew.
5. The new doctor seems knowledgeable, but the entire time he is talking to me he is leaning against the counter, staring off into space, and rhythmically tapping his cheek with his index finger. He never actually looks at me. Okey dokey.
6. LMS comes in with prednisone and a new inhaler with a spacer. She gives me the prednisone and a cup of water. I take the pills but she doesn't take the cup. There is no table or anywhere for me to set the cup. Meanwhile, she is busily opening the inhaler to demonstrate the spacer, chatting away, even though I told the doctor and her both that I had used a spacer before. I finish the water and set the cup on the bed, because it's pretty obvious LMS is doin' her thang, and I could have a seizure and fall off the bed without her noticing. She finally gets the package open. Then, not for the first time, I wonder what the hell runs through LMS's mind? She starts taking the spacer apart. She pulls off the silicone on the end where the inhaler goes to show me, well, what? I don't know. She puts it back on, apparently finding nothing to really inform me about. She opens the inhaler and attaches it, then walks me through using it. The wrong way. I decide that smiling and nodding is my best way to go. It works.
By the time I left, it was after nine am, so I drove out of the parking lot, across the street, and went up to see my doctor. They squeezed me in and he reviewed the meds, made a couple of changes, and sent me to the pharmacy. I went to the CVS in my Walmart tuxedo, then went home to bed. And slept. Despite the prednisone and the albuteral, I finally slept.
Once last bit of funny. The last time I was given prednisone, I was awake for the next 36 hours straight. My doctor gave me a prescription for a low dose of temazepam, telling me to take one, but if one didn't work, then take a second, no more. That night, I took one. I wait for a little over an hour, but nothing. I take a second. I wait about half an hour. Nothing. Well, nothing until I attempt to stand up. I do the drunk weave. I am swaying. Very carefully, one measured step at a time, I walk to the kitchen. It took three tries for me to turn on the light switch. I then carefully made my way to bed and slept, except for when I would wake up coughing, at which time I would have brief dreams of a man-sized creature that was a cross between Swamp Thing and a head of lettuce that was in earnest discussions with a nerdy looking guy. *headscratch* I absolutely have no clue.
Poor kid. Even then, I'd've had to be moved-- I cannot deal with those sounds. Not in the least. 
... and meh for awkward ones. XD
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