I had a horrible tummy ache on Saturday around one in the morning, and after watching too many movies, reading too many books and blogs – I was convinced my spleen was tearing up or my appendix was about to burst! So King K had to take me to a casualty ward at a private hospital around the area we stay in.
*shaking my head* What a waste of time and money! When I walked into the casualty ward, after refusing the porters offer to wheel me to casualty (Thank you, Baba), I was greeted by three nurses listening to a blaring radio playing some Rebecca tunes. They simply told me to fill in forms and they will take it from there! One of them even said, “sho! I hope it’s not appendix” but just sat there!
I thought, surely as my husband is with me, he could fill in whatever is necessary while you old sods take my temperature or something! King K was so angry he whispered to me “Cant we just wait to go to the doctor later? Clearly these people are public hospital nurses that need the overtime!” My husband doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body and has the patience that I believe only God has. I have seen and experienced people try to push his buttons and he just keeps calm and replies nicely while I, standing beside him, am usually almost bleksemming the bugger for treating him unfairly!
While he filled in the forms, the nurses were discussing how quite it was for a Friday night. AND I, being in amazing pain, sat next to him, feeling like I was burning from the inside. After he filled the forms in, one paramedic dude came and gave me a urine test thingy. When I came out of the loo, he took it and took my temperature and checked me, then called the doctor. When the doctor came, the old sods became mobile and came to give results of my urine tests, temperature and all the other things that the paramedic dude had done.
Now, the doctor seemed too fatigued to think because he asked the old sods if it was safe to give me some medication in my condition? I almost just walked out! What? Doesn’t he know? Isn’t he the doctor? He then told me, they would give me a painkiller and observe me. My poor husband, at this stage, just looked so sad and just said “These people, really!”
Old sod #1 came to administer a drip, and before she even touches me said “I hope you have thick veins because I hate looking for veins”. I was just too speechless to reply. She then took my hand, cleaned it and tried to put the needle in – I just wanted to scream for my ma! – The pain was even worse than my tummy pain! The next thing my wrist is swelling up and bruising and she had not even put in the drip (just the needle). She pulled the needle out and rubbed the bruise.
She eventually brings some tool that they use when taking blood – it kinda stops the flow of blood and the veins rise a little (those with a medical background or donate will know) but she couldn’t clip the thing on. A dude from the blood bank came in, as the doctor had ordered blood samples, and he just took it and clipped it on. I swear I saw my life flash before me! When she eventually had the needle on the vein (painfully) she told the guy to come get his blood samples – before the guy could snap on the blodd collecting bottle, she opened the nozzle and MY BLOOD spilled all over. The guy grabbed the nozzle and snapped the bottle on. Old sod says “I don’t know why you didn’t wear gloves, you know you had to collect blood!” then smiles at me and says “Oh! You see I saved you clothes, they don’t have a single drop on them!”
When the drip was on, I simply passed out – too tired and emotionally drained or the painkiller really worked. I woke up later to find my blood flowing into the tube that was supposedly supposed to flow into my veins. I called for the old sod and the paramedic dude came. He said “Oh! You have a back flow, the drip is finished. I’ll get another one” My heart simply sank! The drip was so dry! Why had no-one checked how I was doing while I passed out? Or the drip nogal?
The clueless doctor was checking an old sickly looking man in a cubicle opposite mine – he was complaining of chest pains and said he was a diabetic and had high blood pressure. The doctor said he can’t see anything wrong. He thinks the problem is psychological and the old man must get counseling. The poor man was alone! He looked devastated! I was shocked and hurt and wanted to cry!
Anyways, I am fine, just ovary problems that seem to be manageable. I survived and have a bruised wrist to prove my ordeal. I have not taken any of the meds they prescribed because I don’t trust them! Why are they working in the health facility when they don’t seem to have the drive to help people? Why? Do they take their jobs seriously enogh? Are they aware that they are dealing with people's health who pay good money to get the service the pretend to provide? I just feel so angry! They just seem like taxi drivers - reckless with our lives and I-DON'T-CARE attitude when we pay our good money to ensure they have food on the table!!
I am sorry if I offended anyone who has a relative that works in the medical field but this was my experience and my feelings!!