I’m in the midst of yet another gallbladder attack and my husband has been nearly begging me to go to the ER all day.
I told him I’ve interned in the ER.
I’ve seen the nurses stand outside a room where they made sure the patient could hear them and laughed and made fun of her, leaving her to sit there in agony because they thought she was being dramatic.
I know how they purposely leave you sitting unless you’re actively bleeding out. To punish you for daring to come in not bleeding out or unconscious. Because I’ve seen it from their side. They lie and say they have more emergent things, when they’re standing at the nurses’ station laughing and gossiping. Not a lick of charting happening. Again, not observing this as a patient, but as an intern and later as I worked with them.
I know they won’t give you anything for pain, and call you a drug seeker.
I’ve worked with doctors and nurses and CNAs. I’ve been the provider of care. I know the eye rolling and cussing and mutterings of hatred and disdain.
I’ve been forced down and sliced open without working anesthetic because they decided I was being dramatic. Then the doctor had the audacity to say afterwards that the issue was way worse than she thought. Yeah. Big help to me then, after I stifled screams the entire time. No one will ever care about your pain.
I would rather pass out from pain or allow my gallbladder to burst, (which CAN happen, esp with my family history) than ever go to the emergency room.
And the sad part is- it’s all those providers’ fault.
