As incompetent as they come

I am here to report that emergency roooms are nothing like the depict on Grey's Anatomy or E.R. or even Chicago Hope when that was still a show. There is no sex in the stock room because I am pretty sure most of those people are not having sex. There is no witty quips during a diagnosis or dramatic moral lessons at the end.

At first, I thought perhaps my experience would be Grey's worthy because I had to sign in with a triage nurse and the word "triage" just sounds TV-worthy. But no. Instead I am holed up in the rooms that are just really curtains. A third person asks all my symptoms and history and writes the same things on the same sheet. "Do you think I am making this up?"

My first "doctor" is really just a resident of some kind comes in wiht this HUGE zit on his forehead that makes me think he is dirty - a totally unfair accusation but I cannot be held accountable for my thoughts while in a emergency room. This guy asks me my entire history again, which I can only assume means he can't read my chart. After awhile he starts saying things like "Hmm..." and rolling his eyes to the top of his head. He then proceeds to ask me if I am sure that I am not just having my period. What I wantd to say but didn't: "Idiot. I am 23, I have been doing this "period" thing for quite some time now. Ten years in fact; that's 120 periods. I know what one is." So after determing it's not that, he goes to "get his boss." Comforting.

My nurse comes in and makes a bunch of Kansas jokes about Auntie Em and Toto. Then she puts in my IV which is painless but my veins are apparently so good that when she's trying to get a blood sample after the catheter is in I look over and see my blood spurting out like a fountain. She takes a blanket from my bed to clean it up because it's all over the floor. I do everything I can not to pass out.

After some icky stuff, I have to get a cat scan. I drink this dirty water that makes my organs glow (think Erin Brockovich) and the radiologist comes in and makes me recite my name and date of birth while he hides my hospital bracelet from me.

Him: "We have to check your identity."
Me: "Yeah? In case someone else really wants a cat scan?"

After the first cat scan, they inject iodine in my IV which is a different temperature than blood so it feels like a fire is going through your blood stream. Within minutes, it all collects in your bladder and feels like you peed your pants because it's so hot.

Once done, I am told my test results will be half an hour. Lies. One hour later, in which I have to listen to a toddler screaming nonstop, I buzz my nurse and ask for my results and if I can go sit somewhere else and wait. She says no they are full. I prance through the hallways in my gown with no back just to verify. Another nurse comes to try to make me give him my urine, which I have already done. He says: "Oh, I'll have to look for that." He comes back later to assure me that yes, they have found my jar of pee.

Six hours from when I arrived, I go home.

At the end of the day, the only moral lesson I could find is that if you are really sick, don't go to the ER.

Oh and saline IVs would be awesome for hangovers.