When Dr. Blauner came to our home, his black bag filled with 1950’s medical accoutrements, my mother enchanted by his good looks and kind gentle ways behaved like a school girl with a crush.
Physicians were like gods then. A doctor in the house gently feeling the forehead of a sick child, whispering words of encouragement set the stage for a rarified time when your baby/child would lie in your arms free for the moment of the young one’s usual demands and busyness. The doctor’s home visit brought trust enabling tranquility. Now, no matter the hour, or the weather, the only solution is to wrap your unwell child in love and blankets and head to an overcrowded germ-filled ER waiting room.
I wonder if all the doctors’ offices received permission to pass so many patients off to the ER or it just happened. A doctor “on call” who called you back, at least on the phone, could prevent avoidable emergency visits; another practice that has disappeared into the ether.
Fear brings people off-hours to the emergency room when a “doctor on call” could assuage concerns by assessing the situation and assuring that a wait-until-morning to see a primary-care doctor is in order.
Uninsured people have no choice but to go to the emergency room where they are guaranteed to be treated.
When I Googled “how many visits to the emergency room are avoidable,” many sites estimated from 70% at the high end and 30% at the least.
Whether the calamity is in the amygdala or your toenails, or in-between, you might receive needless, superfluous, expedient unnecessary treatments. I received six hours of intravenous antibiotics for a viral infection. A lack of funds and personnel prevents proper testing before pumping strong drugs into a person’s bloodstream.
No blame, no solution, just a recommendation
After the New Paltz Rescue Squad, a volunteer group, was summoned — acting with concern, respect and decency — and dropped me off at the ER, what unfolded was deterioration which continued throughout the night and for several days.
We were told there was between a ten- and 13-hour wait to be admitted and no beds were available if admission to the hospital proper was needed. A young couple with an infant wrapped in a receiving blanket and covered with a towel was seated next to me. Since the baby was coughing and I had yet to be diagnosed, I tried to find a corner next to a less vulnerable person.
Hours later I was granted entry and put in a windowless room in the emergency department, examined by a doctor and administered blood tests, which determined I had pneumonia. It was then the unnecessary medication was administered. The room was very hot. I was told the thermostat was broken. After several hours, three men came to “fix” it. I spent the next three-and-a half days quarantined in that room. Later it became very cold. I was informed the maintenance people were not there, but as soon as one arrived, the temperature would be adjusted. I found the thermostat myself. It was broken. The custodians never arrived. I remained in the room all those days with three thin sheet-like coverings, which I was told were used instead of blankets due to laundry concerns.
A young nurse came into the room several hours later to take my vitals. I asked her if she could please just cover my feet which were cold and exposed. She said, “No. That’s not part of my job. What do you do to cover yourself when you are home?”
I replied, “At home I am not suffering with pneumonia and hooked up to an IV.” Later the same nurse came in, looked sheepishly at my feet which I had managed to cover myself. I could see she was sorry. For a moment I felt sympathy for her. Who knows what she was up against dealing, as I was, with a broken health care system.
An older woman dressed in street clothes with a name tag on her shirt entered my room and asked, “How are you feeling?” She listened with presence and spoke a few kindhearted and reassuring words. I wondered what her role was, if she was hired to comfort people.
She replied, “No. I am head of the emergency department as well as the pulmonary unit, and since we are so short staffed I am ‘pitch-hitting’ for personnel who are not working today.”
Her words and example went a long way to changing my mood and lessening my fears.
Like so many problems facing us, along with the breaking down of our norms and systems, individuals can do very little to solve such vast calamities. A doctor told me “these last three years are a bad time to be sick.”
After she left, I redoubled my efforts to be civil, thank everyone and be polite and patient. Also, to remember that hospitals are not hotels with room service. I decided not to take my predicament personally.
I recommend staying out of the hospitals by taking care of your health, but if you do find yourself trapped in a deteriorating medical quagmire, at the least, the only action within your control is to practice kindness.
Join the family! 
