Why I will Retire to A Different Community

Ok, yeah. I was gonna stop my blog.

But something happened today that has me pretty upset....and I wanted to run it by my ER RN blog friends.

I got a call from my husband's work. The reception was sketchy and mostly static and I could barely make out what the person was saying -

" mmmffff*CRKL*ffsto-the-hospital-ffftt*crkl!ft-husband--fftd*-hand-crkl-injured-kfhtt-sheared-off*fftcKL"

WTFlip?????? My husband had an accident at work. I couldn't hear how bad, what was going on...all I knew was that he was taken to the hospital - immediately. So after calling in to work for time off part of my night shift tonight, I frantically drove to the local hospital to find out what was going on and to be with him - like most concerned wives would do. Worried sick.

A volunteer stops me in the reception area. Asks me where I'm going. I explained that my husband was brought in injured and I had to find him. I distractedly scanned the waiting area in case he was there, still waiting.

She knew who he was.

I told her that I was his wife (didn't mention I was an RN) and could I please go see him.

Remember that at this point he could have had a severed hand for all I knew. I know I must have looked worried. Very worried. I had been in tears on the phone to my work about it when I called in notice.

The volunteer wandered into the reception area which is behind a semi-circular reception desk and spent 10 minutes talking to the receptionist.....and it wasn't about finding my husband. It was about a knitting book and magazines etc. Finally she got the receptionist to do a search.

You have to picture this "brand spanking new" Reception area that is for both receiving and triage: The half moon desk is 1/2 reception, the other half nurse triage. A huge 1/2 inch plate of curved glass that starts 6 inches above the desk surface - carries on right up to the ceiling. The partitions between each receiving "cubicle" is also glass. When the RN/receptionist takes your vitals and/or asks questions it is in the open in front of all the other people in the ER. Absolutely no privacy. My husband said that when he was giving his information, the 1/2 inch glass blocked out the verbal exchange between him and the nurse/reception - so that he had to speak VERY LOUDLY. He wasn't very comfortable with presenting his medical history to the Whole World in the General Waiting area.

"Sorry" the Volunteer says " the Rule is - no one goes in with the patient"

"Pardon? But - he is my husband. I have no idea what is going on. I don't know how he is. I don't know what happened. I need to see him. Where is he? Please."

Oh, she says (remember - this is the volunteer) I saw his fingers, they didn't look that bad and he is ok. WTFlip? A. How the hell did she get to inspect his wound or find out what is going on with him? and B. Who is she to be deciding his prognosis? I guess FOIPPA (HIPAA to Americans) doesn't mean much in this ER. Still, I kept my mouth shut.

Why wouldn't they let me in to see how he is? I was starting to think all sorts of things - maybe he was telling them not to tell me because it was worse than it actually was.......my husband is like that. Downplays everything.

If I was a drug addict, or acting like a crazy person, or raising my voice and hysterical, or being VERY demanding or rude, looked like a derelict or had an entire entourage with me - I could understand not letting me in. But, I have worked in ER before and know not to fuss....and if you have read my previous blog...you know how I patiently waited 6 hours to be looked at with 8/10 abdominal pain, in the very same ER a year ago. I just don't like to create scenes.

The Volunteer wandered into the ER bed area to see if the nurse would allow me to see my husband. I could see the RN wildly gesticulating a "ABSOLUTELY NOT" to the volunteer. I guess the Rules mean more than anything. The volunteer came back through the doors -
"No - you can't go and see him, he is waiting to see the MD then he will be sent to Xray and then you can see him for 2 minutes and that's it"

No explanation. No report on how he is. No telling me what's going on. For all I knew - he still could have been lying there in pain with whatever. (Fact was, he was in awful pain. I gleaned this information from one of the other patients waiting in the General Triage area - her words exactly, which didn't make me feel any better - "your husband was in horrible pain while waiting to be seen..."

Finally the nurse sees me at the double door and talks to me. " He's had 2 nails pulled off, he needs to be sutured and then xrayed and bandaged. He's ok". This is the first "official" word that I get on my husband's condition. All right. He's OK??? I have had a sliver shoved under my nail and that hurt like stink. Two nails pulled off - well, it is not a hand laid wide open or a cardiac arrest, but still.....

I don't know if he's ok. I still haven't seen him. I plead with them. I told her that I can understand why they don't want loads of people coming in there and the problems it could create. So she would understand that I knew how to behave - I did, at this point, slip that I was an RN. At this point I haven't seen my husband at all, haven't been able to talk to him and I was worried.

I also happened to see the MD treating him - it was the same one that misdiagnosed me a year ago - I had reason to be concerned.

Finally she said: "well, you can go in - but ONLY FOR ONE MINUTE - and leave. Then, when he is finished with the MD and everything - you can see him for 5 minutes only. And that's it". Haughty tone.

I go around thru the doors and to the end of another hall where my husband is waiting in the "observation area" in a chair - waiting for a free stretcher bay. He is still in pain - 8/10 he says - one hour after coming to ER. My husband said it felt as if someone had taken a pair of pliers and yanked off 2 fingernails. He is a very stoic guy. Apparently, in this ER, if you aren't writhing around in pain - rolling around on the floor screaming and crying ...they figure you aren't having any pain.

Does that tells you what kind of customers come through these ER doors?

The waiting area reveals a very different scene. All the patients (only 6 of them) waiting in the triage area were quietly sitting scattered among the empty seats. No one was complaining. Everyone was quietly and calmly waiting their turn. No histrionics. No loud people. All Patiently waiting. Even the woman who was gasping for air. Even the little boy with the big bandage over his eye. Even the woman doubled over in pain in the wheelchair. Hardly a peep. Same scenario both times I visited the ER in the past.

They had given my husband a 3 page form to fill out. Poor guy was in so much pain, never mind it was his Right hand that was damaged. I glanced at the sheet he had tried to fill out. His handwriting is normally better than mine. Sort of - girlish. What I saw before me was a childish scrawl. They wouldn't let me stay with him to help him with the form, so I was sent back to the waiting area to try and fill it out on my own. There wasn't a question that I could answer without asking my husband.

In the minute and half I saw my husband - I had asked when his last tetanus shot was since this was obviously a very dirty wound. Seven years ago apparently. He told me that they told him he was good up to 10 years. I informed him - Absolutely NOT - I told him he needs one if it's been more than five with a dirty wound. I told him he wasn't to leave without one. Now I am really worried. I am sent outside because I overstayed by 30 seconds. I am now going to be punished for that transgression. They don't let me in ever again.

I stood outside the doors. The RNs that came through the doors seemed to know who I was.... I guess they already were talking about the RN wife of the husband patient who insisted on trying to Circumvent Their Rules. Smug knowing faces staring down their noses at me as they walked by. "I know who you are......" one nurse says.

I could see he was led to his own area. I waved and smiled at him, he gave me one thumb up.....and the nurses still wouldn't let me through the doors. He was only 4 feet away. At this point I am sure they were just trying to drive home their point. I could hear the MD talking to him through the door, and I know that whatever instructions or information given to my husband at that point were not going to be absorbed. That is just the way he is. In pain or distracted - he just doesn't hear anything.

I wait another while - they stitch him up, clean him up....put the dressing on.

Finally, he was released. The whole visit really didn't take that long as far as ER waits go. Most of it was waiting. I don't mind waiting. I could have waited six hours or more. ( I don't think my husband could have, he was in so much pain) What I minded was not being allowed to be with my husband. I had begged to go in. I promised to sit quietly - and I would have.

Instead, I was made to worry needlessly.

And what I didn't understand - they had allowed several other people in to accompany other patients. I guess maybe because my husband's injury was something "minor"in their eyes - it wasn't ok for anyone to be with him. Or involve family in the post discharge care and instruction, never mind I am the one that this is going to fall on.

OK. So my question to you -

I have worked in at least 12 different hospitals, some of that in ER. NONE of the ERs in any of these hospitals had a rule that No one is allowed in with a patient. Have any of you heard of this? I know there are times that we would LIKE this to be the rule.

I phoned up my Nurse Manager Sister-in-law, and 2 other nurse aquaintences.......none of which had ever heard of this type of restriction. The nurse that works at this hospital said - and his words exactly - "That's BS....when did THAT change?"

Was it wrong of me to want to see my husband? To be reassured in that way to know he was ok?
He means the world to me, and we have only each other.

Right now my dear husband is OK - now that he is home and fully medicated.

And me? I am now going to finish off the rest of my night shift.