So I don’t even want to get into the circumstances that led us to be in the Emergency Room again this week, except to say that the baby & I are fine and I was not in early labor, thank goodness.

Don’t let the term “Emergency Room” fool you. It is only a coincidence that the word “Emergency” appears to be related to the word “urgency”.  It is not.  It is, however, related to the word “Emerge”, because after you check in you slowly emerge about 7 hours later having spent 5 minutes with a doctor while the rest of the time is spent either nursing your symptoms with the rest of the general public in a germ-ridden waiting room, or with your husband in an exam room listening to hospital intercom chatter while surreptitiously checking out the contents of all the drawers and cabinets. (What do you suppose this is for, hmmm?  Any bets on what will happen if I turn this dial?).

Because I am becoming an expert in Emergency Care, I feel that I can give some important constructive feedback to the medical community at large and also to my sister-in-law, who is studying to be an RN.  Here is my feedback: don’t be bitchy to ER patients. Some of them would rather go to second base with John Ashcroft than find themselves sitting in the Emergency Room. Try to understand that after waiting 2.5 hours to receive nothing but a plastic bracelet and instructions to return to the waiting room, your patient just might be hungry enough to want to plan for lunch.  They may approach the desk to politely ask, “Do you know how much longer we’ll need to wait?”, and when they do, don’t respond with this bitchy comment: “This is an emergency room.”

Oh, really? My God, we thought this was heaven!  Seriously, we looked around and said what is this Magical Place of Happiness, where one can watch Regis and Kelly followed by Days Of Our Lives and Animal Cops at a maddeningly high volume?  This place where there are no magazines -- not even a single, antique version of Highlights or Field and Stream -- and where a crazy lady keeps talking to you about how attorneys are ruining the medical community, and where an entire family with Tuberculosis and no sense of personal space camps next to you?  Are you telling us that this…this utter Nirvana is, how you say, an Emergency Room? 

You see, when you give that response to a sick, pregnant patient you’ve no right to be surprised or offended when the patient looks at her husband, they both laugh with surprise at your callousness.  I spent the next few hours beating myself up for not being quick enough to respond in kind. I'm just not that quick on the verbal draw; it's a problem I’ve struggled with since high school, but that's another blog entry.   Anyway I spent the next few hours crafting witty, cutting responses such as: You, my RN friend, are in the wrong career. Try the Division of Motor Vehicles.   I'm considering faxing these responses to her.