Post operation day 2 raised some concerns with my surgical drain.
I’d read our take home materials from the hospital on warnings and didn’t see the ones that addressed my concerns. So at 11:00 that night, my family decided that a hospital visit to an emergency ward was required to make sure nothing was abnormal with the surgery recovery.
As it was the weekend, my surgeon was not available. We didn’t have an on call contact to check with on concerns. The breast health centre wasn’t open for a consult. We didn’t have a choice but to go to an emergency department at one of our city hospitals.
The last time I “put in time” at an emergency ward was over 15 years ago when I fell down a flight of stairs and broke and dislocated my sacroiliac. (As I said in an earlier blog, I don’t get sick but accidents do find me!)
Well, well. Little did we know what was in store for us in that emergency room sojourn.
My sister and medical folks in my social circle have said that full moons tend to see an increase of people in emergency wards. It’s also a time that allegedly changes the behavior of people.
We arrived at one of the hospitals in our city, to be greeted with a full room of people waiting to see ER physicians. We were told it would be probably two hours and that the staff would try to see us as soon as they could so that I could get home quickly and continue to recuperate.
Others came and went in the time we sat waiting. Some were in and out in minutes. Many continued to wait with us.
The hours passed, and passed, and passed. Early morning infomercials hawking air purifiers and muscle machines kept us awake, but not amused. We sat through several episodes of wallet-fetching promos.
At the point that an evangelical minister came on the telly to sell us on registering for his conferences to help us on our Judgment Day, I got up and asked the security guard to change the channel. A chorus of relieved “thank-you’s” echoed from others in the waiting area who also hadn’t yet seen a doctor. CNN was chosen as the replacement channel.
People Watching
Emergency rooms are among the best places to “people watch” in big cities.
You see all kinds--young, old, and multiple “frequent flyers” in an emergency ward. You can’t help but find some compassion, humor, and pathos in the lives of the frequent flyers.
One of them was treated for a foot problem, was discharged around midnight, told he could go home by admitting staff, and bunked out in a lounge chair overnight as he didn’t have a home to go to. He got up at 9 a.m. and left.
Several of them knew about how to access heated blankets to stay warm while waiting for their appointments.
Then there was the group of eight frequent flyers who were all well known by the hospital staff. Two shifts of security guards called them by name.
On this particular night, there were several occasions where the guards had to remove the obnoxious and inebriated contingent that kept returning to see their buddy in ER. Sadly, they are a group of homeless frequent flyers that seek shelter in the familiar confines of a hospital emergency ward.
ER Staff
When we came to emergency, an admitting clerk opened my file with a nurse. The clerk worked the rest of her shift, got off duty, went home to sleep, and came back the next morning to put in a new day.
She glanced into the waiting area on her arrival at work, looked our way, and said: “You’re still here?” She shook her head in disbelief and went on to get a coffee to start her day.
Ten hours later from when we arrived, we were summoned to an examining room between shifts changing over. The examining rooms’ hallway was full of people waiting to get admitted onto hospital wards. Most of the examining rooms were full with other patients undergoing procedures. The ER wait was explained in full view through our eyes. Such is the domino effect of hospital bed shortages that backlog emergency wards.
While waiting for the doctor, we had to endure the ranting of an ER nurse who was coming to the end of her hectic shift. She felt she had a license to vent at the patient beside me about the comings and goings of people in hospital emergency wards on Sunday nights. “They’re sick, and wait all weekend to be seen. Or, they come in on Sunday nights just to avoid going to work on Monday morning,” she complained.
Wow. Nursing burnout. Un-professionalism and cynicism at its finest. It’s time for that nurse to get another job. Heck, I’ll even help her by brushing off her resume and updating it as I’ve done for many others!
Her comments made me feel very guilty for bothering emergency staff. I was branded a nuisance without having been seen.
Based on the length of time that I waited and the crabby nurse’s comments, I really felt that I had no business appearing at an emergency ward two days after major surgery about such “trite” concerns as possible problems with a surgical drainage. What a difference in care and attitudes of nursing staff when compared to what I encountered only two days earlier at another hospital with my surgery.
We saw an ER resident almost an hour later after getting to an examining room. He apologized sincerely for the long wait and started his check-up. He told me not to feel bad for coming to the hospital with my concerns. “It was the right thing to do,” he said trying to bring comfort to me in this anxious situation.
A surgery drainage was a relatively new experience for the young and learning doctor. Wisely, he had consulted the nursing team and an on-duty surgeon to confirm his treatment intentions.
In the end, it all ended up positively. The symptoms I was experiencing were not uncommon, but weren’t ones I was told about prior to leaving the hospital post surgery. It was also an opportune time to sort out some of the conflicting information we had received on drainage and wound care with the resident doctor.
The highlight of this visit came when the “new on shift” attending ER nurse walked into the examining room to change my dressing. I got the biggest hug from her when she realized whom I was. I’d known her since she was a young teenager.
We had spent hours conversing at the local Y when my children swam there and she sat at the poolside lifeguarding swimming classes. Our son had been a friend of hers throughout high school. She was his escort to high school grad, and they shared part-time jobs as life guards at the local Y, working to earn money for university.
I had the pleasure of witnessing her grow into adulthood as a bright, warm and caring young adult. Our family also shared in her life’s journey several years earlier when her dad was dying from cancer.
She is now a new graduate nurse who chose to work in emergency having previously worked as a paramedic. Early in her career, she already is a great nurse. Lucky are the patients she will care for.
After a farewell hug from her, we went home relieved and exhausted. It was 29 hours since I awoke on the previous before that I could now plunk down to sleep. Day two was not the best day for surgery resting and recovery.
Last night, as I got ready for another round of sleep, I looked out at the brightness of the clear nighttime sky. A full moon in its entire splendor greeted my weary eyes. It explained everything that we had encountered.
Strength, Courage, and Determination. I fight on. A new day awaits.
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