My trip to the ER

So it's Monday evening. I have just finished providing my family with a delicious supper of leftovers, microwaved to toasty perfection.

We're all just kinda sitting around the living room, talking and waiting for story time and, more importantly, bed time. Sonwun starts whining a little about his ear. Not a lot mind you, but enough to trigger memories of The Boy Who Cried Wolf.

But it's the ear. And we don't mess with ear infections. So I've been told.

And, by the time story time rolls around, the volume, frequency and quality of the whining has grown. By bed time, I realize we're headed for the hospital.

Now, for those of you not living in Portage La Prairie, Manitoba, health care here goes something like this. During office hours, and a little beyond, there is "The Clinic." It's where you take yourself, or your child, when things like this hit during the day. Something that's not serious enough for the ER at the hospital, but serious enough that you can't wait the three months it will take to get an appointment with your "family doctor."

Now, should something like this hit after office hours, your only choice is the ER.

Now personally, I don't like to go to the ER with an ear infection. It's clearly a clinic kinda thing. But I also know that if we let this go, it could get ugly in the wee small hours.

So off to the hospital we go. And we find the ER waiting area to be standing room only. Oh joy. This could take a while. I'm not happy.

It takes about 10 minutes, but Sonwun and I eventually find a couple of chairs. He is trying to keep his whining under control and I'm sitting there, stone-faced, trying to ignore all that's going on around me. But I can't.

The ER is full of the standard personalities. Beside me, an older guy with arthritis, is running down his list of maladies for me. Beside him, a woman in handcuffs and leg cuffs is flanked by two female prison guards. 

Beside them is a woman whose young son (about 5 or 6YO) apparently broke his arm in a playground incident. (She's gonna "demand a suspension" from school for the child who apparently pushed her kid down, resulting in the injury.)

Beside them, broken arm boy's grandmother is holding court on wait times and educating anyone who will listen on "how things work around here." (If an ambulance comes in, THEY go to the front of the line, she snorts. Well . . . duh!)

Gramma's got the full attention of young dad and his family, who all came down, apparently, because youngest child cut his finger. Might require a stitch. They are sharing ER Wait Time stories at full volume. They make it sound like they should have their own wing at the new Canadian Human Rights Museum, if it ever opens.

Beside these folks is the gum lady, who is distributing said confection to every child in the room. She's there with what appears to be her elderly father.

To be fair, if I had to describe myself in the same spirit, I would be tired, frustrated-looking dad with young crying child, who has no interest in anyone else's whiny stories.

So, after an hour, we go into the triage area. Sonwun is assessed, given some Advil, and we're sent back to the waiting room.

By this time, young dad (the one with the kid with the finger boo boo) is nodding off while his two kids, ages I'm guessing 5 and 3, are running around the room, making noise, climbing on chairs and generally being annoying while mom issues the obligatory and ignored commands, "sit down" and "stop that." They don't.

Personal pet peeve here. With two active boys, I've spent my fair share of time in ERs, clinics and doctor's offices throughout the province. No matter how squirrely the boys are feeling, they are NOT ALLOWED to stand on the chairs. People have to sit there. I don't care if it's summer and you could eat off the bottom of their shoes. You just don't do it.

When it's the middle of winter, boots are wet and have been running around on the less-than-hygenic ER waiting room floor, it's abso-fucking-lutely anathema. 

But these two kids include more than a little chair standing as they stampede about the room. Mom and dad can clearly see what they're doing, but hey, they already have their chairs.

Anyhoo, back to Sonwun. He is now sound asleep beside me. The Advil was apparently enough to beat back the pain in his ear. On one hand, I'm thrilled he's no longer in pain. On the other hand, this probably dials us back on the urgency scale. But I'll take it. He's comfortable, in spite of everything going on around us.

Slowly, but surely, the waiting room starts to thin out. One of the annoying children whines to its daddy for the fourth or fifth time, "When do we get to gooooooo?"

And daddy, in an exaggerated voice designed, I think, to piss off the nurse in charge, "Probably at least TWO MORE HOURS!"

Jackass.

We wait and, about two hours after entering the hospital, find ourselves back in an ER treatment room. It takes another 45 minutes, (Sonwun sleeps) but the doc eventually stops in, confirms an ear infection and does exactly what I'd hoped for. He tells me it will most likely clear up in a day or two AND writes a prescription for antibiotics, just in case it does not. This saves me a trip back in a day or two and I really do appreciate it.

In all, it took three hours. And I think that's not too bad. In this fast-food world we've cultivated, everyone expects instant gratification wherever we go. But life ain't like that. Sometimes you just have to sit and wait your turn.

And yeah, when the ambulance came in from a car accident, it took first priority. I heard one of the medical people say "This one's going straight to surgery." So I'm guessing it was a little more dire than an earache. 

If, heaven forbid, my boys and I are involved in a serious car accident and are in need of quick medical attention, I don't expect to sit in a waiting room for three hours for treatment, behind a whiny kid with a little cut on his finger, another with a minor ear infection, and a third with a broken arm that has already been assessed and splinted at triage. 

And I don't expect I'll have to.

The system ain't perfect - no system is - but it's what we've got, it's universal and it's free. And in exchange for that, I'm not too worried about spending a few hours, now and then, waiting to access it.

Happy Hump Day. Celebrate as you see fit.