A Joke Falls Flat
I would rather have remained entirely ignorant of the quality of care available at midnight at the emergency room of the hospital on the south side of Gardnerville, Nevada. However, the cards dealt me that particular education as the coda to my week’s vacation in the Lake Tahoe area.
Friday night at about 9:00 I began noticing a sharp pain in my abdomen, just to the right of my navel and within my ample belly by several inches. I took an aspirin and finished my glass of wine, and resumed catching up on my Ordinary Times reading. (That’s right, I was reading these very pages.)
Around 10:30, I got up to answer nature’s call and found that the pain had not receded but indeed had grown much more intense, and migrated lower, further within my great big belly, and closer to my right hip. Sharp pain, migrating to just over the right hip, feels tender to the touch and firmer than the left side. I may not be a doctor, but I know I haven’t had my appendix out yet.
I tried to stand up, and had difficulty with the pain. And then I vomited up my basically undigested dinner. Which sealed it for me: if this isn’t appendicitis, that would be great, but if it is and I do nothing about it, it’ll freaking kill me. And we’re half an hour or more away from the nearest hospital, which is down the mountain in Gardnerville.
I informed my sleeping wife that we needed to go to the hospital and she thought we should just pack our stuff up and head back home from there, since we were going to check out the next morning anyway. So that took the better part of an uncomfortable hour, and then we drove down the hill.
An aside: a lot of places offer “emergency medicine” or “emergent care” and look like hospitals but really are clinics, that do not have 24-hour services available. Such was the first health care provider that we came across in Gardnerville. I’d noted this place on our drive in and mentally filed its location away under a “just in case,” and when “just in case” actually happened, I drove there to find it completely closed. In the future, it may pay to learn where the actual hospital is in town when visiting a new location, rather than just remembering where vaguely medical-looking stuff is.
Another aside: if you ever have the pleasure of visiting Garnderville, you’ll find it’s a charming, quaint community. Most everything is on the main drag, and the town’s leaders have gone to some effort to cultivate local businesses, both tourism-centered and otherwise, all on the main drag. Which has a resulting speed limit of 25 miles an hour for the entire length of town. When you are in pain and need to get to a hospital, in the middle of the night when there are no other vehicles anywhere in sight, adhering to this speed limit is a very, very frustrating thing to do.
Anyway, back to the subject at hand.
I’ve needed to use the emergency room in my own community before. It’s crowded, smelly, staffed by surly and unemphatic clerks, and the wait for medical care is hours long. I was prepared for a similar gauntlet — surely on a Friday just before midnight, some people who had been asked to leave the nightly meeting of the local gun and knife club would surely be taxing the staff’s attention. It certainly would be here at home.
But no. One other person was in the waiting room, half-asleep. We had the place essentially all to ourselves.The admitting nurse took me right away, took my insurance information right away, and within three minutes of walking in, I had been introduced to an attending nurse who had zero other patients. No waiting. I gave my samples, she got me in a hospital gown, took my vitals, and covered me with a warmed blanket.
A doctor was with me within ten minutes of the time I walked in the door.
They put an IV in me, blasted me with an anti-nauseal and a narcotic of some kind for the pain, and suddenly I felt loopy like I was drunk so I was no longer aware of time passing so well. By then the pain had migrated further towards my back, and the doctor found nothing odd in my blood or urine lab results (which seemed to come back almost instantly) so he wanted some radiography. I got ultrasounded for stones in my kidney or gall bladder, and then got a CAT scan to confirm the health of my internal organs.
I needed the orderly’s assistance getting out of my gurney and onto the CAT scan table. When I did that, he made sure to line me up so that a guidance laser was pointing exactly halfway between my legs. So what did he expect me to say other than “You expect me to talk, Goldfinger?”
Granted, I was sky-high on a narcotic painkiller at the time, but I thought I was being really funny. The orderly didn’t get the joke at all. Later he said that no one had ever made that joke before. Really? Really? Hasn’t everyone seen Goldfinger? I can see not giving Goldfinger’s exact line from the movie in reply, since it’s a hospital and sometimes people get nervous, but a variant would be entirely appropriate: “No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to be scanned.”
They couldn’t find anything wrong with me. They printed out all my records, gave me a sample pack of pain pills and a prescription to fill if I wanted more, and sent me on my way. Amazingly, it was three in the morning when we left — I suppose it was the drugs but I’d had no sensation of that much time passing.
My entire experience, from the time we walked in the door until the time we walked out, was superlative. (Other than the orderly not getting my very, very funny James Bond joke.) It turns out that adequate facilities, trained and pleasant staff, and no other patients competing for resources can result in really high quality medical care.
I haven’t got the bill yet.
And it’s hardly the hospital’s fault I had a bummer for a tail end to my vacation. No diagnosis for what actually caused that pain — that’ll be an issue for my regular doctor here at home. But I’m not writing about my malady. I’m writing because I had as good an experience as could have been possible under those circumstances. To tell the story necessarily involves sharing those circumstances.
Prices at gas stations, lines in grocery stores, real estate prices, friendliness of interactions — that’s all nice, but needing help at an odd time of night is a good test of what a place is really like, how the people and facilities there will respond when put to stress. If this incident is any indication, that small city south of Reno must be a real nice place to live, even if the pace of life is a bit slower than I’m used to.
Burt Likko is the pseudonym of an attorney in Southern California. His interests include Constitutional law with a special interest in law relating to the concept of separation of church and state, cooking, good wine, and bad science fiction movies. Follow his sporadic Tweets at @burtlikko, and his Flipboard at Burt Likko.
That was a good joke. Pretty much any joke you make in that situation is admirable, but that was solid.
Oddly i’ve had to rush to the ER twice in the last few month, once for myself and once for the wife. Both times we were in superfast despite our fears of sitting around for hours and had really good care.Report
Ways your story differs from mine:
1) I was in San Diego, not Nevada.
2) I was there for a medical conference, not a vacation.
3) I really had appendicitis.
Other than that, eerily reminiscent of an experience I had several years ago. (Oh, and I didn’t have occasion to tell a James Bond joke.) But I even stumbled into an “emergency care” facility that was unequipped for my needs before finding a real emergency department.
Glad you’re feeling better, in any case.Report
No Mr. Bond, I expect you to lie… still while the scan is in progress.Report
Very nice. Would that you had been my radiographer. My wife would have rolled her eyes at you, too.Report
Here’s hoping that it turns out to be just too much wine and aspirin.
it may pay to learn where the actual hospital is in town when visiting a new location,
Shortly after moving to Bloomington, Indiana, I ran into an open door around midnight in our darkened house and split my forehead open. Can’t leave the two toddlers home alone, and didn’t seem worthwhile waking them up, so I drove myself to the hospital, trying to remember where I’d seen it. It was the first weekend of school, and the police had set up a roadblock to check for students who were both drunk and driving. Great! I can ask the cop where the hospital is. Shit! The cop assumes I’ve been drinking and got in a fight. He seemed oddly reluctant to believe I’d just run into the bathroom door in a pitch dark house, had blood running down my face, and yet was alert and calm enough to drive myself to the hospital.
I’ve needed to use the emergency room in my own community before. It’s crowded, smelly, staffed by surly and unemphatic clerks,
Yep, that sounds like your town!
Seriously, I hope everything turns out well.Report
I took the liberty of cleaning up your italics, Dr. Aitch.
And yes, my town sucks. If I didn’t have a mortgage tied around my neck like a leaden albatross, I’d move out of it.Report
But it’s so affordable! (I really have a hangup about affordability.)Report
Thank you for taking liberties with me, counselor. (Now if only someone considerably more attractive than me would say that, right?)Report
I have only been have-to-go-to-the-hospital sick twice n my life (knock wood). The first time was the summer after my third year of college. I had what seemed like a bad viral infection, except that it kept getting worse. When my temperature spiked to 105, I checked into the local hospital, which was unable to bring it down with anything other than an ice bath. Eventually, it was diagnosed as hepatic mononucleosis (that is, mono that attacks the liver), for which the only treatment is plenty of fluids and keeping the fever down until it goes away. That took about a week, and I was discharged.
The second time was a week after that. I had exactly the abdominal pains Burt describes, and since I assumed it was related to the mono, I went back to the hospital immediately. It was a very hot appendix, and having been scared enough not to delay things might have saved me from its bursting. They gave me the same sort of happy juice, and I was loopy enough to paraphrase an AAMCO commercial for the surgeon. “You’ve taken these out before, right? You’re not like the guy that says (hillbilly accent) “I always wanted to fix a transmission.”? (Accent on the first syllable: TRANSmission.) He wasn’t amused, but fortunately didn’t take the opportunity for a little revenge in the OR.Report
As a child, I had surgery to repair my abdominal wall.
According to my mother, as I was being wheeled away for surgery, doped up but not out yet, I was apparently singing this.Report
Too bad that was before everyone was carrying videocams in their pockets.Report
Apparently I pronounced it “frou frighting”.
Also, in HS I had surgery to repair my pinky that I screwed up playing basketball. They did it with just a local anesthetic because I assured them I wasn’t squeamish (they even let me see it before they closed it up).
As part of surgical prep, they applied a tourniquet to my upper arm to stanch the bloodflow in the limb. The surgeon was wrapping that rubber surgical tubing (similar to what most slingshots use) around my arm, tightly, when it snapped, and his fist went flying into my mouth with some force.
He of course apologized, and I joked “You’ll be hearing from my attorney and my orthodontist.” (I had braces).
He laughed…but it was sort of an uncomfortable laugh.Report
They say laughter is the best medicine, but I’ve always found ER staff to be a tough crowd.
Burt, did you mean your hometown hospital staff are unempathetic? I think I’d almost prefer people not to be too excitable when I’m having an abdominal emergency.Report
Not just ER staff. My wife was in the hospital for our second kid, rushed there by ambulance six weeks early and bleeding badly. Walking back to her bed from the can, suddenly a fist sized glob of gelatinated blood fell to the floor between her feet and stuck there, quivering like a big serving of strawberry jello. It looked so funny that we both glanced at each other and burst out laughing. The nurse was not amused, and gave us an unbelievably offended look.
But maybe there’s just something wrong with us.Report
“Unempathetic.” That’s the right word, not the one that Microsoft’s spell-checker chose for me and that I, in my haste, approved.
They do not care that you are in pain. They do not demonstrate compassion for people in pain. They are upset that you are asking them to do something, they have plenty to do already. Go take a seat over there, sir, and we’ll call you when we’re ready for you.Report
somewhat in their defense – and only somewhat, because there’s no excuse for being rude – depending on the locale you live in, drug seeking is endemic in er’s. i sat in a brooklyn emergency room at 2 am with a abcessed molar for what felt like a decade before a doc came over. i’d just been diagnosed that afternoon and thought i would be ok until my endo appt a few days later – i was really, really wrong.
anyway, the doc is a total dick to me – completely and totally so. i’m describing how much i want to die and what the # of the molar was and all that and he says “so what do you want me to do about it?”
according to my wife i nearly grabbed the poor doc (who was maybe 150lbs soaking wet) and screamed “i want you to find the oral surgeon on call and rip this fucking tooth out of my mouth”. at which point instead of being offended he said “ok, i’ll write you a script for some better pain control, because the tylenol with codeine the dentist gave you isn’t working.”
i was so delirious at the time that i didn’t realize earlier what was going on, despite having had numerous conversations with er staff in other facilities about the most common cover stories for addicts, of which dental pain is usually near the top.Report
“Hasn’t everyone seen Goldfinger?”
It’s worse than that.
Not everyone has seen Ghostbusters.
I busted out “I’ve worked in the private sector. They expect results.” the other day. Nobody so much as batted an eyelash.Report
Once on a date, the woman I was out with told me she had a headache. I said, “Maybe it’s a tumor.” Turns out she had never seen Kindergarten Cop, and people don’t like being told they might have a tumor by their dates.
Hope it turns out the pain was a random one time thing.Report
You actually obeyed speed limits on your way to the hospital..in the middle of the night with no pedestrians and car traffic?
Hell, I’d have been doing 60.
I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious. You are going to get some follow up work done “just in case” right?Report
Echoing others, hopefully this is one of those things that doesn’t recur and remains unexplained forever. Good that you know the signs of appendicitis, though. I, unfortunately, have reached an age where, when I wake up in the night with what I would always have considered heartburn, or some rib cartilage that needs to “pop”, or a fencing bruise, or a shoulder that I’ve slept on “funny”, I am supposed to run through the list of heart attack symptoms, just in case.Report
I raised 3 boys. Any camping, fishing, or other outing to a new location always required a reconnoiter in the nearest town to locate the hospital first. SOPReport