Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Sista Chicks Go to the ER

You know, they say that a woman can't go to the bathroom by herself....all of the girlfriends get up at once and go as a group. I mean, why waste all of that visiting time when you can be chatting while washing up, combing your hair, applying your lipstick? Really, I don't know why women tend to have a group mentality, but I know it must exist. The other day, a Sunday, to be precise, one of my friends was having excruciating pain in her jaw, teeth, face.....you know the kind of pain that doesn't allow you to sleep or hardly even breathe. As usual, the crowd was gathered for the Sunday meal and stayed for the fun visiting time afterward. Ok, fun visiting time is sometimes everyone dozes off for awhile. So, while we moms were dozing, the kids were playing poker and things were going pretty well. Except in the midst of my resting time, my friend keeps whimpering. She applies heat, takes copious amounts of pain reliever and there is no relief in sight.



So, I begin asking her if we should take her to urgent care. I had never seen her take a tylenol before. She has a huge tolerance to pain. But she doesn't want to go in..........until about 6:15. So, we get ready to go.......all three moms. And my eldest son says, "it takes all of you to go to the urgent care?" "Well, yeah, of course." But urgent care is closed and we end up at the emergency room after convincing her that she can't put up with this kind of pain until the next day.
Being persistent women, we drive across to the ER. You have to understand that at this point she is barely functioning.
And then the questions begin: age, insurance, kind of pain, allergies, all of the big stuff. While we are standing in front of a desk with her holding her face barely able to speak. So, my other friend tells them that she needs a hot pack. And we start talking for her. They have two computers going to make it faster. Then we go sit in the waiting room on the very uncomfy chairs. People in pain need comfort, but ER's never have it. Boring tv is playing. My friend is moaning quietly. My other friend takes her head and rests in on her shoulder. I think, "we should get a hot pack." My friend says, I already asked for one for her.
I get up and go to the desk. "My friend really needs a hot pack."
"I'll see if I can find someone who knows how to make one."
Isn't that a bad answer in a hospital emergency room??? Nonetheless, it arrived a few minutes later bringing only a small amount of relief.
Finally we are called to the back and they put her on the gurney. And again........the list of questions. This time we answer.
Then they leave the room and leave us there waiting. About now is when I mention the IV that is inevitably coming. And she looks like she will bolt. But she simply can't.
The nurse comes back and does a great job at setting up the IV and then puts in the phentonyl. And you know what? It didn't give her relief!!! So they came and gave her another shot. And it barely relaxed her.
THEN the doctor came in and........you guessed it..........started asking her questions. The one thing the drug affected was her brain. So, again we answered. What kind of process drugs you and then asks you questions?
Well, it has been stressful, so my cohort and I, after everyone else has left the room, do a little bunny foo foo song and dance for her. Healing, right? Of all of the things that happened that day, this one she remembers. And we got a warm blankie and covered her up. And my cohort massaged the painful part of her head. And we sat with her.
Someone came back and gave her a couple of steroids and a couple of percocet and said they would send her home. She was still in pain.......a bit manageable.....incredibly drugged....but still hurting. A lot.
But, we gather her up. Walk to the check out where they ask for a check in her drugged/pained state. Get our prescription. And off we go to the pharmacy. I go in. I answer the questions. I submit the prescription. And we realize that we were given the scrip for the steroid but NOT the pain medicine.
So, we head back to the ER. My friend has already called and when we get there she goes in and gets the thing that we really needed for all of that time. We take our friend home.
She goes to bed. I talk to her husband while he drives us back to our cars at my house. He is picking up the meds and will watch over her.
I call him later and tell him to make sure he wakes her up every four hours and gives her the medicine so that the pain will at least be manageable. And he does. And he is greatful to hear what he should do.
And it was a day where someone was cared for. And cherished. And advocated for. And though the doctors didn't do all I wished, I have long since realized that sometimes just the simple acts of love of those around us are most healing. Though we still feel pain, we can cope. Being loved and taken care of IS the best medicine. It gives hope.
Now, she doesn't believe that while she was drugged she danced around naked. She thinks I'm just messing with her. We'll never really know, will we???
blessings,
rhonda

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