A few days ago I had some minor QL spasms and worked with my trainer to get the kinks out. Despite doing awesome stretchy-spine exercises, which did help quite a bit, they progressed up my back to turn into a total neck crimp; I couldn’t turn or tilt my head to the left. After my boss made fun of me for about four hours for the fact I couldn’t turn my head to look at people when they came to my desk to speak with me, I visited my very awesome chiropractor and had an adjustment. He warned me I would still be very sore for a few days, but after e-stim, heat, and a ton of cracks, I felt immensely better and could move my head again!
…and then a few hours later I tried to pick up a heavy box and fucked it all up again. By this time I could not get to either trainer, chiropractor, OR doctor (as they were closing) and ibuprofen was just NOT cutting it. I broke down and went to the hospital…despite the fact that it was Friday afternoon and I was essentially going in there to say “I’m in lots of pain and ibuprofen and heat aren’t relieving it, please give me something stronger” aka “I’m drug-seeking.”
It was, amazingly, the most pain-free ED visit I have ever experienced. I walked in, explained to the triage nurse the issue, told her it wasn’t an emergency but couldn’t get in to see my doctor, and got sent to fast track/zone 3 where they send the people who aren’t in imminent danger of dying. While in the waiting room I enjoyed the exciting company of three drunks, two migraineurs, and someone with a “sprained ankle” who couldn’t remember, after talking to me about how bad it was in between text messaging her boyfriend, which ankle it was that had the injury. Despite getting there AFTER all of these (obviously frequent flying) patients, I got in before them, was poked once by the PA, and given a scrip for 12 hydrocodone and sent on my merry way…all in under 2 hours.
I should have asked for ultracet and skelaxin (both worked wonders last time I had neck spasms), because it turns out the vicodin just really eats up my stomach, and so I’m back where I started, in pain, and advil not cutting it. I’m going to go for a massage on Monday, and back to the chiropractor, and remind myself next time that any drugs that require a DEA number to prescribe just fuck up my stomach.
Anyway, this wonderful ER visit (props to Manchester Memorial for having such a well-run fast-track program) reminded me of the LAST time I went in there, when I had pneumonia.
I was waiting in the waiting room for almost two hours wheezing, sent over from my PCP’s office after I had an O2 sat of 82, before even making it back to triage (despite telling the RN at check-in that I couldn’t breathe), and in that time an old woman came in via ambulance, accompanied by a friend. The EMT driver checked her in with the check-in RN, and then she and her friend sat down right across from me. After waiting a whopping five minutes the two old biddies started complaining.
“Sick” old biddie: What’s taking so long? I came in by ambulance!! That’s supposed to get me straight in!!
“Sick” old biddie’s friend: I know! God, these people don’t know what they’re doing. You could be dying out here!
“Sick” old biddie: Maybe I should tell them I have chest pain?
“Sick” old biddie’s friend: That ought to get you back there! You should tell the nurse that!
Over the next ten minutes this “sick” old woman – who arrived via ambulance, probably paid for by medicare – got up three fucking times to essentially complain about the wait. Her thinly disguised entitlement was wrapped up in questions such as, “do you need any more information from me?” and “did the EMT check me in already? should I sign something else?” Finally I hear her tell her friend, “that’s IT! I’m going up there and telling them that I’m having chest pain!” when they triage nurse comes out and calls my name. I stand up to follow the nurse back, and in my peripheral vision I see “sick” old biddie rise and walk towards the triage area as well.
She can’t possibly be following me in. She’s just going to ask the check-in RN another question. No one would be so bold as to follow someone else into triage! I naively thought to myself. No, that entitled bitch surely did follow me into triage – as I was walking in the nurse I was following asked me “oh, is she with you?” to which I responded “NO, she is NOT, and she is planning on telling you that she has chest pain so she can cut her wait time short, just so you know!” They forced her to leave the triage area, and as soon as she was gone the triage nurse told the check-in nurse “oops, did you just accidentally misplace that nice old ladies paperwork so she loses her place in line?”
Yeah, suck it, entitled bitch. One day you’ll have a REAL emergency, but there will be no money left to pay for it because of all the many times you and people like you abused the system.