What A Year

So many things. So many changes. So many accomplishments. So many places. So many.

Preach it Sista! --A Must-Read

I came across this blog post and the following reply linked on facebook by two of my friends and former co-workers in New York. It is too good not to share. I can't tell you how tired I get of hearing people complain about how long they had to wait in the ER that one time when they had to go. A former patient of mine said it best on a particularly horrendous night at Mission Hospital in Mission Viejo, CA. He had just been assigned to a room, I came in and apologized for the wait. His reply has stuck with me for six years. He said, "You know, I never feel bad about having to wait anymore because there was one time I didn't have to wait. I brought my five year old son in who was not breathing. We were rushed back and immediately surrounded by a team of nurses, physicians, and techs. My son is alive because of those people, and I hope I never have to not wait again. Every time I have to wait, I thank God." Emergencies don't wait. That's what it boils down to. Remember that before you call your local ER to inquire what the wait time is. We will NEVER be able to answer that question because we can't see you over the phone. Hint: if the wait time or weather has any effect on your "need" to go to the emergency room, it's not an emergency. Rest assured, if you have an emergency you will not wait. It is called an emergency room, not a convenience room. That's my ten-years-experience two cents on the following article and reply. The blog post was written by and ER nurse and the follwing reply was written by a man who has been an ER physician for fifteen years.

Someone named Rose replied to the original blog post with her opinion that being busy is no excuse. An opinion that seems to be popular among those who have never seen the inner workings of the emergency room --be it as a healthcare worker or emergent patient. The following is the reply of Derek, an ER physician --priceless:

December 25, 2013 at 7:55 am

Rose, you must have accidentally thought you went to the “Convenience Room”. Believe it or not, you actually went to the “Emergency Room”. In theory, there should not be a single test performed in the ‘Emergency Room’ that we can just ‘send you home and call you later’. We are testing for, well, “emergencies”.

Can you imagine: Ring, ring… “Hey, Rose? … Dr. Smith here. … Yeah, so the tests came back. … You are, in fact, dying. Rather quickly, actually. … What?. … I know, right?! … Yeah, so, an-tee-way, do you mind, like, coming back in?… Great!…. Also, please stop by Arby’s and have a double roast beef and supersize curly fries before you come back. Thanks! Drive careful! … Of course you can have a work note. See ya in a bit! We’ll get the Demerol ready!”

The reason you are waiting so long is people have lost sight of what the emergency room is about. ED staff are overwhelmed with noise and trying to pick out that signal in the noise is becoming even more difficult. That includes PMD’s, specialists, nurses and especially patients.

Seriously, last shift I worked these were some of the chief complaints: ‘vomited once 3 hours ago’ … ‘no complaint- car accident yesterday, wants to get checked out’ …. ‘no complaint- had positive pregnancy test at home and wants to confirm’…. ‘bloody nose in a 13yo *yesterday*; mom read on internet it could be cancer; wants cancer testing’- at 3am …. ‘rash for 2 weeks, called PMD answering service at 2am, Told patient to go to ED’

The reason we ignore you is the same reason you turn the radio down when you are following directions. We need to concentrate so we don’t get lost. I say this about 10 times a shift, “If you are waiting in an emergency room it is a good thing.” You don’t want to be the person that doesn’t wait. Trust me.

The average stay for an ED visit is 4 hours. *Average*. So half of all ED visits will be over 4 hours.

God forbid you call your primary, wait 1 or 2 weeks and then to go to your primary, then wait another 2 weeks for results. Honestly, your problem will most likely be resolved before you get to the appointment. You can then cancel your appointment then BAM! Money in the pocket.

50-70% of what comes through the door does not even need to be there. Remember the Great Runny Nose Epidemic of 1746 that killed 17 million people? Exactly, because it didn’t f’ing exist. Colds just go away after 2 weeks. So does most everything else.

Also, when did fever in otherwise well appearing children become an emergency? And vomiting? Geez, when I was a kid I didn’t even wake up my parents. I would just get a trash can and vomit all night. By the next day gone.

Wait, you don’t have a primary? If only they could invent something, like a book that would have phone numbers in it– we could call it a “phone **book**”. We could even separate businesses from regular people. Perhaps, a different color of paper, like green, red… no! How about yellow?

Wait, you have no money? How can you then possibly justify a $1500 ED bill for cold like symptoms vs a $300 office visit? Don’t forget the $700 ambulance since you couldn’t find a ride.

BTW, No, I will not give you a work note; i need you to go to work and pay off your *&%$-ing bill so everyone else doesn’t have to pay double on account of your lazy ass.

Also, don’t tell me you don’t have $300, when you spend $2098.76 a year on cigarettes. What? Oh, you just bum them off of everyone else and don’t ever buy them? Ah, Just like your healthcare.

ED doc for 15yrs.

An Admission

There are things I am not grateful for.

What I am grateful for is my bed. Always my bed. I'm grateful for this awesome and amazing world and all the beauty in it. I'm grateful for the opportunities I've made to explore some small part of it. I'm grateful for the opportunities I've taken to live in other places and to learn and grow. To discover myself, to become myself, and to love who I am.  I'm grateful for my parents. For my brothers and sisters, and my cutest nephews in the world. And I'm grateful for my people. For a small handful of my best friends. People that I don't have to explain myself to. Two of them here, three in Seattle, one in Iowa, one in Pittsburgh, one in North Carolina, and one in Ethiopia. People who have seen me at my best and at my worst. People who know me sometimes better than I know myself. People that no matter how much time we've spent apart, nothing changes when we get together again. Of the myriad of things I have to be grateful for each day, these are the things I'm grateful for most. And I'm grateful for Stefan. Obvi.

Color Me Wonder

Today I had a fair amount of anxiety over sharing my crayons with my favorite 3 year old nephew.  So, ya know, adulthood.

White Girl Problems

It began last night. The prep work. My hair had to be washed last night so that it could air dry over night so that I could spend 40 minutes putting it in large curls this morning, which would set for thirty minutes while I did my makeup and got dressed. Then I could let the curls calm to a beachy-curl slash wave while running errands so that by my appointment time my hair was the perfect combo of clean, sleek, effortless, but still chic that is needed to meet someone who holds the future of your precious locks in his hands.  I mean, you can't just show up to an appointment to get your hair done for the first time in a ponytail --the horror! I even went so far as to manicure my eyebrows and shave my legs for the occasion --although the latter may have been overkill. In all honesty though, it's a big deal. So I left my house with hair and makeup perfected, ran my errands, then started the long drive to my appointment. Fifteen minutes can seem like forever :) I was more nervous for this than I have been for anything in a LONG time. And let's remember I've recently relocated to a new time zone, started a new job, and traveled out of the country twice in the recent past. Physically nervous --beyond butterflies. Which reminds me. If you're prone to gut-churning nausea-inducing anxiety, you should forego the caramel macchiato for breakfast and go with something of actual substance --less caffeine and sugar.  By the time I arrived at the salon I was honestly terrified, and it took several calming deep breaths to get out of my car.

Getting your hair done by someone new at a new salon is one of the most terrifying things a girl can go through. I almost cried. #firstworldproblems

The Before. Terror. Terrified.

And it was all for naught, of course. It usually is. But my hair is my most prized possession, and sometimes all the research is just wrong. It's only been wrong once for me, and I got over it, but still. Dan was fantastic. I was in good hands. I wondered at first --being the only brunette in the salon, but I am back in Utah now and these are things I'll just have to deal with. The salon was sleek and comfortable, the music was fantastic and just this side of mainstream --my favorite. And when Jason Walker's "Down" came on, I knew it was going to be just fine.  No gossipy idle chit chat --I explained what I liked my hair to do in general and the problems I'd had in the past, handed full control over to my new stylist and spent the next very delightful hour discussing books and travel. And now my head is about two pounds lighter and smells delicious :)

The after. Happy girl. Happy hair day.

Adulthood

Sometimes I feel guilty ...not guilty... sometimes I feel as though at 31 I should be more of a responsible adult. For instance, maybe put the ipad away, stop watching teen-targeted shows, and go to bed when you have to be up in 6 hours. Then I think, ya know what? I spent last night rapidly transfusing massive amounts of blood products in to a gruesome humpty-dumpty who's tongue was sticking out of the middle of what should have been the base of his throat. So there. I can watch you-tube videos and Vampire Diaries reruns as much as I want. And I'm going to eat a popsicle and chocolate covered raisins for dinner. So there!

To clarify... I could sleep, I just don't want to. It's not the gore that is my daily routine that's keeping me awake, rather I use the routine-ness and mundane nature of the gore to justify some questionable decisions. Yay adulthood :)

An Ugly Truth

Tonight I came face to face with a very ugly part of my soul. I had an entire post written about the ordeal, then I realized it was much more journal appropriate. You know, as in the secret journal that not even posterity should discover lest future generations realize what a crazy maniacal person you truly are. But the feelings I'm having now, the realizations coming from that experience are so powerful.  I won't recount the entire story, but I will say this: Whatever you find yourself complaining about or feeling bad about WHATEVER it is, take a moment and imagine you telling the complaint to a friend doing purely selfless work with public health in a third world country. Or write it down as though you were writing a letter to such a person. Then hear yourself say it. Hear the gravity of what your saying to this person, and allow yourself to see and imagine what their daily problems consist of. Just let it soak in. It changes your perspective.  And maybe it brings you face to face with the root of the problem that you've been battering for some time. Stark reality is cold.

The grass really is always greener. Don't let yourself immortalize past experiences on a pedestal of the bright and shiny. Don't let yourself discount your present experiences because of dreams of the past or of the way things could be. This is not to say don't dream, don't change, don't become. Quite the opposite. Be where you are. Appreciate each day for what it is, and when that day has gone, appreciate it for what it was --nothing more, nothing less. Dream big, aim higher than the stars, but don't let it put a damper of where you are now. Just realize the beauty of the position you're in to control your own reality, your own experience. Take stock in what matters. What really matters. Don't mourn things you gave up to grow to where you are now. Remember the things you gave up and be grateful that you had them, be grateful for where they have gotten you, but BE where you ARE. Always. Always moving and going forward.

And be easy on yourself. We all have ugly spots on our souls, it's part of this human experience, finding them, accepting them, and cleaning them away. You can hate certain parts of yourself as long as you hate them while staring them in the face. Don't turn away and pretend they don't exist. Don't close yourself off from them determined to feign ignorance. Acknowledge that they exist, feel whatever feelings associate with them and then work like hell to un-blemish the spots. The best lessons often begin with the deepest pain.

And be grateful for friends who when you accidentally show them your most ugly spots, love you anyways. And maybe try to be that friend for other people.