Last night, halfway through another graveyard shift at Small Town Hospital, I had the misfortune of meeting a woman who made me wonder (once again) why the hell I put up with this job (short answer: it pays better than minimum wage and I can study during my down time).
If you ever find yourself in the emergency room for something that isn’t really an emergency (ie- you’re not gasping for air, seizing, bleeding profusely) remember that you’re called a patient for a reason.
This woman missed the memo. She presented at 2:45am with a leg injury. She thought her leg was broken, thus she needed an x-ray. This does not qualify as an emergency, but it does warrant a trip to the ER. Being that it was 2:45 and not a full moon ( I swear this urban legend is true, we’re always extra busy when the moon is full) the Er was empty. However we had just discharged the last of about 20 patients and the nurses had hella charting to do.
At 2:50 leg injury woman started loudly expressing her annoyance to no one in particular. “What’s taking so long. What are they doing back there? This is ridiculous.” Then she addressed me, “Ma’am (I hate when I’m called Ma’am. But I also hate Miss. I can not be pleased in non-familiar addressments. Plus I was the only one there, it’s not like a simple “excuse me” would have confused me. [haha, poet!]), any idea how much longer it’ll be until I’m seen? I’m in a lot of pain.
Being the nice person I am, I called back to the nurses to remind them that leg injury woman was out front. “We’ll get to her when we get to her” was the response I received. Leg injury woman did not appreciate this answer.
She continued to loudly complain about the length of time and the lack of people in the waiting room. “There’s nobody here! Why is this taking so long?! If they’re no one here to see me I’ll come back tomorrow!”
Let’s examine that last statement. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” Last time I checked a visit to the emergency room was typically reserved for those situations where one simply cannot wait until tomorrow. I was tempted to ask why she was here at all. “It’s late and I’m tired” exclaimed Leg Injury Woman, “Ma’am is there anyone here? Because I can leave and come back, I don’t want to be sitting here all night.”
“There are nurses back there,” I said as sweetly as I could manage, “they’ll be out shortly, they know you’re waiting.” It was all I could do to not retort, “Well, I’m tired too lady and frankly if you’re so willing to wait until tomorrow why the hell are you here now bothering me?!”
But I’m a good employee and I held my tongue. In the next five minutes the nurse came to take her back to the triage room. Leg Injury Woman sat in my waiting room for a total of 15 minutes.
Fifteen-freaking-minutes.
Even more aggravating, after she spent the last 15 minutes complainingly loudly in my general direction about the lack of nurses and the horribly long wait, she was down right pleasant to the nurse.
The nurse who kept her waiting.
Explain to me the logic here.
On second thought, don’t even try. I’m fairly certain there isn’t any.
Please be nice to your receptionists. We’re paid to little to deal with ridiculousness.
