Monday, January 17, 2011

The 1AM ER Visit: Or How I Witnessed Another Lesson in Privilege

I had my first free and reduced clinic experience, and it was... an experience. 

The experience starts with me sitting in my room when my flatmate bursts through the door with a deranged look in her eyes and breathing heavily.  She told me she couldn't breathe; she thought she was having an allergic reaction to the medicine she was taking.  (She has been sick the last few days, so she went to a pharmacist and got some drugs to make her feel better.)  I told her to sit down with her hands over hear head and concentrate on breathing, while I grabbed us some jerseys and some water and prepared for a trip to the ER.  We got out to the street and found a cab, and we were off. 

When we arrived at the "ER", the first thing I noticed was the smell.  Inside held that fantastic smell of stale cigarette smoke.  There were people standing outside (of course), and that smelled like fresh smoke.  But inside the ER smelled  worse than the Tobacco Bowl... and staler. 

Checking in was no problem, and neither was waiting to get in to "triage".  (I put triage in quotes because the room we were in ((which was labeled triage)) was like an elementary nurse's office.)  We had to wait less than 10 minutes.  There were people in wheel chairs and a man covered in sweat going to the bathroom every 5 minutes, but my friend only had to wait about 5 minutes to get in.  There could be two reasons, and you can pick your favorite: 1. The gringa recieves special treatment.  They don't want gringas dying on their watch.  2. My friends descriptions of her symptoms of feeling like she was dying were taken seriously, and they really thought she was dying. 

Once in "triage" my friend sat in a chair and talked to the doctor (who spoke fantastic English).  We learned that the drugs she took were nothing more than generic Tylenol spiked with caffeine.  I was not able to go any further with my friend on her adventure through the hospital (where she would learn nothing was wrong, making the whole situation rather humorous), so I went back to the waiting room. 

When we were leaving I grabbed my iPod, assuming the wait would be hours long and require more paperwork than I was willing to think about.  (See my previous entry, Por Favor, Espere for more details about waiting.)  I have been having this issue lately of not knowing what to listen to, but I settled on some (crappy) random Kanye/Ludacris mix I made.  As I bobbed my head, I started looking around at the people that were also waiting. 

There was a family sitting in front of me.  The father went to the bathroom a few times between our arrival and our departure.  I could see the beads of sweat around his temples, and his wife had a wet cloth for holding against his forehead, neck, chest, and inner elbow.  He did not look like he was having fun, and his kids looked like they should be in bed resting for school in the morning.

A nice young man, who I would guess is about my age, was hanging out in a wheel chair behind me.  He never appeared to be in much pain, and I am not entirely sure why he was there.  I think he had something going on with his leg.  I was trying not to stare at anyone, so I could only check it out from the corner of my eye.  He asked me to hand him a bottle of soda sitting on a chair half way into the row and smiled nicely.  He couldn't have been in much pain, but still, he was there before us and he was in a wheel chair.

 The final person I noticed and observed was a (I assume) homeless man that usually hangs out between my metro stop and the next one down.  He has poofy hair, wears a suit, and has a backpack and briefcase-like bag.  You may or may not know who I am talking about.  He was "doing paperwork" while he waited.  I have absolutely no guesses as to why he was there.

As I checked out the happenings of the Salvador ER waiting room, listening to my Luda-ye (or would it be Kan-acris?) mix, I thought about how crazy lucky some of us are that that is not our everyday reality.  Although that is where I would end up if anything happened to me here, I know I have access to much better care than that if I need to. 


Currently listening to: The crowd of gringos outside in my park playing guitar and loudly singing Cee Lo Green songs.

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