Everyone should go to a city Emergency Room at least once.
Hopefully by choice and not via an ambulance. But to be honest, many ERs have the best nurses and doctors equipped for anything and everything. I hadn’t been to one for myself in over 20 years (thankfully). But had to drive myself to one the other day. Thankfully, I had my son by my side. I am fine. Thanks for asking.
But I’m serious. Everyone should experience this.
And no, not the ER of a cushy suburbia aka Urgent Care with couches, magazines and nice music. Maybe even a water cooler with cups. Nope, not those.
I’m talking LA County grit where it’s so intense that medics from the US Army have been known to train there to prepare for battlefield. They say that’s how the Friday nights are. Gang and guns via our own battlefield in the City of Angeles. Firefighters in and out with stretchers. A spontaneous monologue almost every hour. A security guard kicking some out, but you can tell he secretly fears some of these regulars. Kind of like a lion trainer.
But I was there on a Thursday. And no, I wouldn’t have taken my son as a youngin’, he’s 17 now and wanted to be with his mom. He’s watched surgeries I say to myself, and can handle this Thursday mid-morning ‘field trip’. The field trip lasted until 4:00 pm, but it is the ER. And I got out faster than most.
I knew I was in pretty bad shape when I’m told, ‘it’s good you came in’ as well as slapping my left arm roughly with a portable IV for 4 hours. I got such a good dose of steroids I’ve never felt so good. Actually never felt so hungry after the first 2 doses.
The admins are Act I, the nurses Act 2, the doctor(s) will enter Act 3. So in between the next waiting period – – we wait. There’s a lot of waiting in the ER unless you’re covered in blood or have a Code Blue. The longest most fascinating intermission ever.
We wait.
And we watch.
We see a young guy with rocker hair going from seat to seat either asking people if they have drugs or if they want to buy drugs. He appeared to do both. He did manage to score some weed from a tattooed guy in a wheelchair. I think he paid in quarters.
At one time, he moved around and sat 2 seats from us in the same row and all I had to do was give him that ‘momma bear don’t even think of it look with my eyes’ and he left within a minute. Gone.
Go to a city ER and it will prove your mettle as a mom — it’s not for the faint of heart.
There’s a gal with a psychotic break going on and 2 sheets wrapped around her like a burka and an old black suitcase. She’s all over the place. She’s someone’s daughter or sister. I wonder why she’s here.
There’a an old man coughing so much it’s probably pneumonia and I wanted to triple mask. He’d walk over to a trash can and spit up his phlegm. I kind of wished he had been seen before me.
A teen in an orange jumpsuit fully shackled is escorted in. He had a sweet face and seemed calm. I naturally stare at him and my son reprimands me “don’t stare Mom.” But he’s walking right by me! He doesn’t understand those instructional wheels that turn in a mom’s brain during this moment.
Two homeless dudes nap on the chairs, they are mellow. That’s a safe row. Can’t blame them for wanting to be inside all day. The staff has them on the 16 hour plan, it’s what they do. They aren’t bleeding out and don’t have insurance. That’s the game. We all know it.
The only reason I’m seen in 4 hours and not 10 is because I’m clean, calm, and smell only like coffee and Chanel, and oh, and I have a PPO insurance card. Facts.
Another observational highlight was another ‘put together gal’ complaining and crying on speaker phone (yay): “she’s been here since 11:00 am and no one will help her.” Even my son looks at me and rolls his eyes. It’s only 3:00 pm. We read each other’s minds. ‘Get over it lady, it’s the city ER not an Urgent Care in the Valley.’
Fact: she probably got delayed because she was demanding and rude to the medical staff. I don’t blame them. They get pummeled by irate and rude patients all day long of all backgrounds…then again, she may have been trying to score some extra opiates. There was another guy there hard-core pleading for a Rx. They know the scam.
More fascinating fodder.
But back to my steroid drip. I send my son out to McDonald’s across the street to get a Happy Meal — having no idea why that specific craving descended upon me. Could be the sadness of the place. It has a down-trodden vibe like the last airport on earth where everyone’s flight is delayed forever. No hope. Nowhere to go. Everyone is dying, sick, ill, or just having a horrible day.
Like the good son he is, he gets me a Happy Meal, an iced latte, AND an extra order of fries. Admittedly, I scarf them down. The last time I’ve eaten this many fries was probably age 16 after a 3 hour swim practice. These steroids are something. No, not the ‘roids’ of gym rats. The steriods that keep your eyes and throat from swelling shut and your lips exploding. I told you I was in bad shape. A scary allergic reaction.
This freedom of jamming fries in your mouth constantly while looking like hell in a waiting room of others looking like hell while no one cared was an opiate in itself. Imagine that in a Los Angeles restaurant. Never happen. I enjoyed it in some strange demented way. My arm had a dangling IV Drip that was leaking blood in the plastic wrap as I stuffed more fries in my mouth. I made a mental note: I need to go see the nurse and get this tightened up. After my fries…
3 lesson take-ways:
I was 90% sure I wasn’t going to die that day. Thankful to know that. I had the wisdom to take action and not try to ‘treat myself at home’ like many Hollywood new agers who end up dead. I’ve actually known a few.
You realize your mortality, health is unpredictable, and that we all need help at times.
At the ER you’ll almost always see someone worse off than yourself. It will make you thankful for the problem you have, you wouldn’t want theirs, and you certainly wouldn’t want the problems coming through the ambulance entrance. Life is always like that. There is always something to be thankful about.
Is the health care system perfect? Absolutely not. Is it fair? No. But I do know that as I watched this ER admit and see every single person in the waiting room, they did it with dignity and the best they could on that particular Thursday. They probably saw most over a 12-16 hour shift, but they did it.
I had some nice conversations with a few nurses. I asked one how she does it, she says she’s so tired that she sleeps really well at night. That seems like a blessing to me. Noble work and restful sleep.
And I definitely felt blessed to be back home.
Be well, C.
Fashion Stories & Dirty Laundry 