I'm not one to normally give credit out to institutions. Generally, they in no way deserve it as customer service becomes dangerously close to extention and cutting corners to save a few pennies is all the rage.
BUT...
Well, let me say first that I have been to the ER perhaps three or four times in my entire life and I only remember two of those visits and one occurred when I was about ten. So that doesn't count. The last one does. Without going into detail I will only say that I had an emergency room scenario and went to the closest hospital to my office Cobb WellStar. I was five months pregnant and sat on an exam room table (not bed) for EIGHT hours without being offered food or water. I recieved virtually no care, saw one nurse once the entire time and my obviously annoyed at being on ER shift doctor was as savy and caring as a mop. I finally got up and left after eight hours of misery deciding that nothing more awful was going to happen at home, that they had no idea what was wrong and they just didn't care. WellStar is an excellent organization in most respects but this hospital is obviously the neglected child.
Then let me say that they last time I took my child to the Wal-Mart of Pediatricians (http://www.pampapediatrics.com/) and Dr. Stephen King (yeah, I know) aka Dr. Shitty Excuse for a Medical Professional "treated" her, she has been terrified of doctors. Actually, pretty much anyone wearing white, Dansko shoes and/or with any apparatus (including but not limited to whistles, chunky jewelry and reading glasses) around their neck. Quite frankly, I can't blame her and I won't even tell you what happened. My contempt for medical professionals has grown to epic proportions (And screw your managed care excuse. You don't care at all, managed or not!) that recently as she screams and kicks I let the nurses and doctors deal with it beyond me reassuring her that I am still there. I usually sit in the crappy chair (actually I like the doctor's stool if I can snag it first since that REALLY annoys them), thumb through the eight year old copy of Newsweek and laugh (possibly while snacking on Goldfish crackers) as one of them gets kicked in the face by size six Disney Princess sneakers. Hey, your nasty attitudes and lack of compassion created this, deal with it. Naturally I'm the good guy and snuggle her and offer her juice and sing Wiggles songs when they get done doing horrible things like listening to her heart and trying to take her temp with the ear thermometer. Believe me, if they were doing anything else I"d be all over them.
So she's not the most pleasant patient at this point. Anyway, the kid was running a fever and screaming on Saturday and it wasn't better despite how much Motrin we dumped in her so we knew we had an ear infection on our hands. Sunday afternoon we loaded screaming child, toys, diapers, change of outfit, wipes, food, beverages, little socks, blankets, cell phones, insurance cards and anything else we would need for a camp out of five to six hours at a hospital ER with a sick child.
We arrived at Children's to discover...valet parking? No seriously, we cruised up to the front and a valet took away our car leaving us to walk directly into the lobby without having to traverse six acres of parking lot. We were concerned that perhaps someone was in fact stealing the car. But at that point? Who cared.
In the lobby I went to the desk and Rob toted the baby and our two bags to a likely spot for an Alpha Base. I presented every piece of ID I had on me, Charlotte's information, insurance cards and exact medical answers with a smug flourish. The intake dude smiled kindly and asked if we'd been there before. I told him once about a year and a half ago at a satellite location she had blood drawn trying to shove the tome of information at him. In less then one minute he said they had all her information, I didn't need to do a thing and handed me A PAGER. Ten minutes he said. Ha! And again I say HA! I went over to our encampment where Rob was busy spreading things out like we were moving into a three bedroom apartment with bad lighting and Charlotte was...looking at birds and coloring. Because they have birds and crayons there. Free ones. We were naturally suspicious. Especially when I spied the coffee machine and got a fresh and tasty cup of German Chocolate Decaf on demand. Even weirder? The pager went off while I was getting my coffee. It had been less then eight minutes. We looked at it like it was an alien device. Were they testing to make sure it worked? Was this a cruel joke? Was it posessed? No! Apparently it was actually time for us!
So we went over (suspiciously, cautiously, not getting our hopes up) to a little triage with a computer and a really nice nurse (cleverly disguised in a Braves T-shirt instead of a uniform which he explained lessened anxiety for the kids). He asked what we felt was wrong. We told him. He pulled out the stethascope. The screaming begin. He asked me to hold it on her chest and he would stand where she didn't see him. Then we sat down again. For one minute!!
We were asked to come through a door. We envisioned waiting room number two, a sterile freezing cold exam room. All sorts of EVIL! Instead this cute little nurse weighed Charlotte and asked if she could take her temperature. I forbade her the anal thermometer. I was prepared to stage a walk-out since this is non-negotiable after our last trip to Dr. Asshat. Then the nurse smiled and said no problem. No Problem? Who are you people? I've never had a medical...anybody agree with me ever on the care of my child! Clearly, the entire ER staff had been expreimenting with some weird gas in the back. Then she took us to an actual exam room.
With a real bed and a television with cartoons. She handed us this cute as pie little hospital gown and asked us to just take off her shirt. Although it still had no back like a regular hospital gown and we got the giggles at the imageof little toddlers running around the ahlls with their bottoms poking out since they have such cute little tushies at that age. Anyway,we barely had the gown on and this person came in. AND IT WAS THE DOCTOR! Charlotte naturally lost it when she saw the white coat and the doctor said she would stand in the opposite corner so that she would be far away from her and not freak her out more. She gave us the little exam and didn't even get impatient when it took the three of us to hold Charlotte down wrestler style to look in her ear or when she bit down on the end of the tongue depressor and refused to let go. She told us that indeed we had a serious ear infection on our hands and she would give us appropriate drugs. For Charlotte. We settled in for a long wait. Until two seconds later.
A lovely woman with a super cool computer tablet came in and said she was the payment chick and we handed her our ID, and insurance card and she took off. Five minutes later we had a medicated child, our reciept, a perscription, three sheets of things we might try to make her more comfortable, two suitcases full of crap and were getting back in our free valeted car dazed and wondering if had all been a dream. The entire process? A half hour. No really, a half an hour!
So here's my question after that really long winded speech. If you can make a hospital that efficient and friendly (did I mention they offered us a Wiggles video if that would make her happier?) then why can adult ER's not do better then...the seventh circle of hell?
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