Dispatches from Suburbia

If I played an instrument, I would have a band called "The Simon Thomsen Sex Tape"; and other musings, rants, and disconnected ramblings.

Friday, March 16, 2007

E.R. Eavesdropping

Quote of the Day: "Though it nearly took a miracle to get you to stay/
It only took my little fingers to blow you away."
-Elvis Costello, "Watching the Detectives"

So, yesterday Kim had some severe pains in her arm. She called her primary care physician, who said that she needed to get to the ER.

Alarms went off. We're thinking blood clots. As with any ER's, it was a series of hurry up and waits. The doctor said that it wasn't even a situation for an emergency doctor. Boring.

Meanwhile, I listened through the curtains to all the excitement taking place around me. An older man, who had apparently been pissing crystals, was told that he had a 6.2 mm kidney stone. "That's a little bigger than a pencil eraser," the doctor said.

On another gurney was a man with a bruised rib. A doctor awoke the man, and to thank the doc for his painkillers the man said, "You're a miracle worker."

The most interesting was a blonde who was no older than 30. A nurse lead her to a gurney as she frantically said, "I need help. I want to die, so I came here." The nurse instructed her to change into a hospital gown. Then he closed the curtain and left.

Later, I listened in on her conversation with a doctor. I learned that she'd recently been through a divorce. That she could not live with herself. That if they discharged her, she'd kill herself that night.

All of it--the kidney stone, the bruised rib, the emotional train wreck, was engrossing. This must be why I like House so much.


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