creative writers' blog

christmas in the er

 abuse

THE BELLY THAT SCREECHED

Christmas Eve was always slow around the ER. Not to many came in but if one did come in it was usually the “real thing.” (By that I mean that it was usually an emergency.) This Christmas Eve was no different. We had a few decorations where we were allowed to put them. The usual staff was present and accounted for; that included a PA, an LPN, an NA, and me (the ward secretary.)

I was an unusual ward secretary the first the ER had ever had and I had only been there for a matter of months while I worked my way through college. In these few months I learned a lot about procedure and protocol and record keeping. I took many a patient’s vital signs and recorded them on their charts.

I sat at my desk that was nothing more than a shelf built underneath a window of clear plastic stuff about three feet wide and four feet tall. I had to stand up a little to get to the hole in the glass a little bigger than a baseball to converse with those presenting for treatment. It was my duty to inform them of the price of ER treatment the doctor’s fee and medicine would be extra.

Like I said, Christmas Eve is always slow.

I was kind of glad we got a patient when we did. (Not glad of course that we had sick people but glad for the change of activity before we all fell asleep.)

A young male presented at the window to see the doctor. I politely repeated what I had been instructed to tell everyone but old folks, mothers with children, and cases where there was clearly an emergency. Now that is a lot to place on an old country boy like me. Oh well, back to the story.

The young man truly wanted to see the doctor although I could see no present emergency. He looked normal and was not in visible stress. So I went off into the routine.

“Sir,” I told him “if you want to see a doctor here it will cost you $15.00 for the ER, $25.00 for the doctor and any medication is extra, and I will have to have that up front.” (You can tell that was a long time ago by these deflated prices.)

He reached into his jeans and pulled out $37.50 and turned to his friend to borrow the rest. Together they came up with the forty dollars and he handed it to me through the window. He gave me what I call earnest money to get into the ER.

He was allowed entrance and seated in the first wheel chair nearest the door. Wile taking his vitals, I inquired as to what brought him to the hospital on Christmas EVE? He just pointed to his stomach area or a little lower and said. “My stomach is making a fuss.” AND IT WAS! I leaned down and listened to the area he indicated and I could hear a screeching, hissing, leaking kind of sound. His vitals were normal and I proceeded to the back where seated was the PA, LPN, and the NA. The PA was reading the evening newspaper and the other two were just lounging.

My remarks went something like this:

“There’s a guy at the window who has a sound coming from his abdomen area and it sounds like he’s leaking gas.” The Pa looked up from his paper and the other two just laughed at me. I held up the chart and clipboard and showed them the money. Show me the money always works. I said, “I have his money, this is serious.”

The LPN, Na, and I walked back to the front where the young man was seated and he was instructed to take a seat in the first cubicle on the examining table. You could hear that sound distinctly now. Scrrrrrreeeeeeeeccccchhhhhhh!! It made a kind of a popping gurgling sound. (Never heard anything like it in my life. You will never know what was going through my mind that could have been the problem.

The nursing aid leaned down and listened intently to identify where it was coming from. She immediately asked him, “What do you have in your pocket?”

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his cigarettes saying, “Nothing but my cigarettes and lighter.”

When he pulled out the lighter the sound moved to his hand. That butane lighter was leaking in his pocket and he thought he was going to explode.

Needless to say, we did explode with laughter. He said, “Oh no, will it still cost me.”

To the which I replied, “No!!” and tearing the chart into two pieces I gave him his money back and said, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

Filed under: Health