These Are The People In Your Emergency Room…

On Saturday, The Boyfriend finally relented and stated that he needed to go to the ER. He had an ongoing issue that he can discuss with you, suffice to say – it was extremely painful and had been worsening and he made the right decision. Unfortunately, we had no idea that we would be there for the majority of the day – as tests were performed (ever so slowly), pain meds were given, a procedure with a utlility knife (no kidding) was performed on him by a dubious "surgeon" and several interesting characters popped in and out of our day.

Through it all, I read a book and tried to amplify those more nuturing and caretaking aspects of my personality (I’m usually the one being taken care of) that are normally non-existent. What can I say? I’m the center of my universe. And yours.

Jason – Jason was the physician’s assistant. He was short, and compact and very muscular with one of those Captain America faces. I hated him. He had arms like steel with bulgy muscles and probably wasn’t aware of how he filled out his scrubs. He probably flew through med school, ran on Memorial Drive at 5 AM every morning and says things like "dude, we really gotta watch our carbon footprint" and "Ruiz really needs to step it up." His appearance almost made Scotty forget the pain but I couldn’t help thinking that he looked at me (unshowered and unshaved, wearing clothes I wore to the bar the night before, hair everywhere) and thought "what are these two up, too?" Fuck you, Captain America! I eavesdropped on his chat with the rugby player in the next bed with the gash on his head and rolled my eyes as they discussed teaching, and rugby and the Red Sox and the gym, and various bars in town. I hated him. I can not strive to be like these Chosen People. I want to wear hoodies and read about serial killers and stay on the fringe, thanks. We count, too, says my inferiority complex.

Vomit Lady – A couple of rooms down, there was a woman who sounded like she had been possessed by the spirit of Pazuzu and then perhaps eaten Three Mile Island and then been faced with Paris Hilton’s cooze. For real, I have never heard someone vomiting so violently in my life. How did she have anything left? In my estimation, everything in her lungs were gone and then was followed by her pancreas and then perhaps her eyes. And when her stomach would relent for a second she would moan "Oh God! Oh God!" While I felt for this poor creature, her cries for mercy caused The Boyfriend to guffaw. He was in pain, so I understood but her agony really amused him.

Nurse Jittery – The nurse who cared for The Boyfriend during our waiting game was a nice lady, but she also seemed like she might have taken a couple of snorts from her amphetamine jar. She spoke really fast, and interrupted herself, and The Boyfriend would throw verbal digs at her because we were waiting for his CAT scan for so long and I would say "Don’t be an ass," and she’d be "oh, I can be an ass too, sometimes I’ll make jokes to my patients and they don’t find them very funny!" Which caused me to wonder if she was trying to joke with Vomit Lady and received a spleen on her nurse clogs in response. Also, she was messy. She would pop in to secure a new IV of antibiotics or adminster painkillers intravenously and she would tear open syringes and pop caps off of drugs and just allow all the trash to fly everywhere – all over The Boyfriend’s gurney and the floor. I found myself picking up after her because a messy ER doesn’t inspire confidence.

The Surgeon – This chief. So every hour this dude would pop in. He was…well, bumbling. But bumbling with a soupcon of arrogance. He would ask The Boyfriend if he was diabetic. At least four times. The Boyfriend isn’t. And told him so. At least four times. Jeesh. The Boyfriend was told he would be staying overnight to be monitored and receive another course of antibiotics. Then Surgeon tells us he’s decided he will perform a procedure to relieve pain and we can go home afterwards. Fine. At this point, the replacement RN whisks in, yelling.

Ivan, the Replacement RN – is a tall, gay man who is not having the surgeon. They get into an argument about whether The Boyfriend is staying or leaving. In front of us. It’s really tense. The Surgeon starts asking "why you so pissed off?" Is this professional? The Boyfriend and I can only watch it like it’s 1973 and it’s Billie Jean King vs. Bobby Riggs. Anyway, Surgeon determines that The Boyfriend is indeed leaving and the procedure will go forth. Ivan exits in a huff. The Surgeon begins ambling around the ER and yelling for a nurse to assist. Oh, jesus. He gets some teenage looking thing whom he begins sniping at to move faster and help him find things. He then dumps out some equipment on the gurney, and The Boyfriend and I notice the UTILITY KNIFE. You know, the kind that you ease out of the plastic case with the trigger, that you normally use to slice contact paper? Is there a scalpel shortage? Jesus!

Anyway, Ivan isn’t through bedeviling this man and thrusts the junior miss section aside to assist. He seems to have gotten over his hatred of the Surgeon and wants to make sure he does right by The Boyfriend. We grow to like Ivan and despise the Surgeon. Mainly because the Surgeon keeps telling The Boyfriend that what he’s doing doesn’t hurt even though The Boyfriend is screaming expletives and then begins yelling them at the Surgeon. The Surgeon believes that if he yells "Numbing! I am using more numbing medicine!" enough times, it won’t hurt. Then he begins the actual slicing without telling The Boyfriend. Which hurts more. Ivan endears himself by telling The Boyfriend that he "looks like Carrie" back where the Surgeon is hacking. He’s not far off.

After the procedure is done, Ivan helps The Boyfriend clean up, steals us some hospital supplies to use at home and he and The Boyfriend commiserate about how much they hate the Surgeon. In fact, Ivan must have said something to the dude, because he came in to apologize for the argument, etc. The Boyfriend has a low tolerance for assholes (yeah, I don’t know why we’re together) and was kinda "eh" to him.

So that was our evening. We’ve been back since, and he’s received a clean bill of health. And Perocet! And since then, I’ve been deathly ill. I blame the Vomit Lady.

Tags: Crazy ass bitches, Sick