I hope you realize how devoted I am to you, even in times of stress. I managed to type that last post with one hand while trying to stop the deluge coming out of my nose. In case you weren’t aware, I would do anything to keep you entertained at regular intervals.
I regret to inform you that my adventure did not end with my publishing that post. Soon after, my jump-into-action friend, Mr. Chauffeur, graciously drove me to the pharmacy for that special something to stop the bleeding. But by then I was too far gone. I finished a box of tissues on the excursion, and the bloody flood seemed nowhere near abating, so I capitulated. I called J. and told her I needed to visit the hospital forthwith, and I’d take a cab and meet her there. She didn’t think a cab was very practical given my profuse bleeding, so she drove me there instead.
My first words to the triage nurse were: “I’m sorry I’m not better dressed.” That got us off on a good footing. After she reassured me my outfit was acceptable, she told me an 8-hour nosebleed was legitimate reason to come in. I always need reassurance. Then she sent me to the Ear, Nose, and Throat chair, where a talented team deals with problems like mine every day. Every single person we dealt with over the course of that visit was incredibly kind and caring. Within 2 hours, my platelets were checked, my bleeding was stopped, my nose was cauterized and I was discharged. The ER moved faster than a speeding bullet last Friday afternoon. That ER is a well-oiled machine.
The only downside was the patient on the other side of the curtain, who had clearly never heard that “You catch more flies with honey.” She was very upset by the wait, and she and her husband expressed their discontent repeatedly. While we were bantering with our lovely nurse, Ms. Grumpy shouted, for all to hear: “Shut the #%$& up!” (I’ve never typed an expletive before. That was fun.) Later, she and her husband bemoaned the long wait because “we pay to get to the front of the line overseas.” The nurse replied, much more calmly than I would have: “That’s not the way it works here.”
Medical staff deal with all sorts of patients all the time. People who are sick are stressed and sometimes belligerent. Stressed or not, isn’t there still a level of respect that we all must adhere to? These clinicians are doing their job to the best of their ability with the resources they have. A visit to the ER takes time, and sometimes one problem takes precedence over another. Over the years, in addition to learning the art of dressing for the ER (you can review my guidance on this matter here), I’ve learned how to treat the medical staff.
I’m not kind to medical staff because I want better treatment; I’m kind because I know ER staff work hard in tough conditions and deserve my patience and gratitude. So that’s what they get, however crummy I’m feeling. I’m there because I trust they’ll make me feel better.