Last night, I got the chance to be patient and I BLEW it.
Last night we had to take Gracie to the Emergency Room. She got croup and it got bad. After we had given her a bath I was about to put a diaper on her, and she was standing up at the time, and the poor little girl recreated a scene from The Exorcist. It was a scary amount of projectile vomit, enough to know that it wasn't normal.
Apparently there is only ONE hospital near us so when we got there--they were "busy". I put that in "" because it didn't look busy to me.
waiting to get vitals done...and waiting...and waiting...
We were there HALF AN HOUR before she even got her vitals taken, and we were lucky because a lady let us go before her.
Once we finally got back into a "room", it took about an HOUR for the doctor come see us. (TWO HOURS total before a doctor saw her.) Took him 10 minutes to decide Gracie needed oral steroids for the croup and a breathing treatment.
Then we had to wait ANOTHER hour before they gave us discharge papers.
She friggin loves that puppet. Also: isn't that the cutest/saddest little hospital robe you've ever seen?
I know that they have to wait for drug allergens to become present. But, as an adult, I have been given a LOT stronger drugs and the LONGEST I have EVER had to wait was 30 minutes.
So I peaked out being our little curtain to see all the nurses just chilling out, talking.
Meanwhile, my 9 month old is so tired and it's VERY past her bed time (it now being minutes till midnight). So I had to go ask how long until we are allowed to leave.
The nurse then tells me that the doctor just needed to come back and check her before we could be discharged.
I kid you not--I saw that doctor about 4 times. Looked him directly in the eye. He didn't look too busy shooting the breeze with the nurses.
We played "soooo big" with Gracie to keep her happy. (That's also what her robe says)
I was literally 2 minutes away from signing an AMA (against medical advice) form and walking out. I just kept asking when we could leave, hoping someone would see that Grace was freaking out and I was about to as well.
Then the nurse just walked in the room with Gracie's prescription and discharge papers.
Umm...didn't she say that the doctor had to come back in?
I was not even going there.
I know Grace well enough to know that she wasn't having any kind of reaction to either medication, and I know medicine enough to know that if she was going to have any kind of reaction, it would have happened already.
So we signed the papers and went home.
When we were leaving Daniel laughed and said he'd be afraid if I was ever his boss and he did something wrong, or that he'd hate to be my server or nurse if something wasn't going the way it should.
Trust me, he meant it as a compliment--but I immediately went to the defense.
I am tough on servers because I WAS one. Almost all of my jobs have been waitressing, and I have never been fired. I know what good service is, and I know what lazy service is. I know the difference between a busy night and neglecting your tables. I tip accordingly. And yes, there have been times where I haven't tipped, because if I had served the way they had served me--I wouldn't expect a tip.
I am tough on nurses because I have been in and out of hospitals my whole life. I know that it IS POSSIBLE to get a child into the ER quicker than an HOUR after they arrive.
I know that it is POSSIBLE to get the Doctor in to see said child TWO HOURS after they arrive.
I know that it is RIDICULOUS that I had to wait an HOUR for discharge papers.
It all comes down to this: If I am paying you to do something, you better do it the way you were trained to and the way you should do it, not the way you feel like it that day.
The ER last night made a pocketful of cash off of our 10 minute visit with a doctor and I am less than satisfied with the service I now have to pay for.
In the end, I am glad that Gracie at least has medication that will make her feel better in a few days. I am glad they gave her a breathing treatment--because I knew she needed one.
When we got into bed that night, I replayed the events in my head and I felt bad. While I do think I was justified in being upset, I handled it wrong. Especially for someone who is trying to gain patience in life.
But then again I am not sure how else I should have handled it.
There is always next time right?