Opinions Of An Outraged Triage Nurse

Often times I’m asked by other bloggers to post stories or submissions to my blog since I have such a diverse cross section of readers that visit The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog. Sometimes emails are exchanged between friends with things that they thought were humorous in some way or tell a good story and they don’t want that story to go to waste or never be seen. I offer this promise, as it has always been here since the beginning, when readers contact me I usually try to accommodate the request, and the following submission y’all will read is just that, it has been passed along in emails for quite some time when it finally fell into the hands of my aunt who just happens to be a retired nurse. There are over 90 forwards of the email, mostly if I had to guess, to other medical professionals and such. She sent it to me to see if it was worthy to go onto my blog. After reading the message a few times I thought it will fit in here just perfectly. I like it when people vent, I especially like it when what is being vented about is relatable to myself, family, and the general public. Y’all will see some humor and sarcasm which I’m positive is from this emergency room triage nurse’s years of experience serving the public. I share this post with y’all today with my appreciation and gratitude to all the medical professionals who serve the public, my hat is off to y’all. I dedicate this to post to ALL of my doctor, nurse, and medical staff friends out their in the world.

Just remember, the views, opinions, and positions expressed by this submission from an emergency room triage nurse on The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog is hers alone, and do not necessarily reflect the views, opinions, or positions of The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog. By reading the following submission, you understand and do not hold responsible The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog for the contents of this submission. The following submission contains strong and coarse adult language which might offend the faint of heart, so reader discretion is advised, and now you have been warned.


People of the world, I am a triage nurse at a busy emergency room in a major metropolitan city. There is much to be said about the people who come into emergency rooms and I’m taking my turn to give my personal opinion, so let me get started.

Do NOT come up to the front desk of the Emergency Room, fling your health insurance card at me, tell me that your doctor told you to come in, stand there with a bored expression on your face and cross your arms over your chest. That is not helpful. When I ask what you are specifically here for do not repeat that the Doctor told you to come in. When I ask what SYMPTOMS caused you to come in; Please do not say that it’s in the fucking computer to me. There are 16 God damn people behind you all sicker than your whiney morbidly obese smoking ass. I’m not going to take the 8 minutes to log onto the computer, log my way in and through your medical record until I get to the part where your doctor’s phone nurse writes “This asshole smoker called me because he’s got a cough” Just tell me that you’re here for the fucking cough!

If your spouse (usually the sensible one) drags you in for the stroke that you had 3 days ago and you still have facial droop, slurred speech, and one-sided paralysis do not state that “My wife made me come in” when I ask why you’re here. Just tell me what the fuck you’re here for. And after I put you in line to go back to the ER do not send your cringing hand-wringing co-dependant family members up to me every 15 minutes to ask if it’s your turn yet. IF IT WAS YOUR TURN WE WOULD BE CALLING YOUR GOD DAMN NAME. The window for stroke treatment was 3 hours. Now that you’re long past it you’re looking at a lengthy rehab. After 3 days another hour or four won’t make a lick of difference. Your anger, frustration, worry, and regret will not get you in any faster. As the slow truth of your stupidity sinks in do not glare at me.

Do not ask to talk to my supervisor or the hospital supervisor when I talk to you in the same tone of voice that you talk to me. This is not Burger King, you do not get it ‘Your way right away.’ The squeaky wheel does not always get the grease. Do not excessively first name me just because I’m required to wear a fucking hospital badge. Including my full name in every sentence is a shallow manipulation, an implied threat that unless you get your way another personally directed customer complaint is forthcoming. I am not stupid. Your threats annoy the shit out of me. Making it personal does not change the 3 hour wait. Making it personal may result in the often used “Therapeutic wait”  (reserved for true assholes). You do not want a fucking therapeutic wait.

Don’t cough in my face. Being in a hospital does not automatically excuse you from the social expectations that we as society have had of you since you were three. Do not be like the drunks who tell me that “If you didn’t want to be coughed (shit, spat, vomited, bled, pissed) on you shoulda’ been a carpenter” If you continue this behavior do not be surprised when I throw a towel over your face while you are in mid-cough or mid-sentence.

Do not tell me that you “Can’t breathe” in long rambling 20 word sentences. In the ghetto that may mean something different, Here in the ER we have different standards for what it really means to not be able to breathe. My bar of not breathing will be reset weekly by the people that are truly blue and/or about 30 seconds from coding from lack of Oxygen. There are people whose lungs are so diseased and scarred that they barely exchange oxygen on a good day with the help of their home oxygen tanks. These people come in and let their bodies do the speaking for them. They eloquently slump over their wheelchairs (or the ambulance gurneys) and are never so whiney about it as the 23 year old single smoking mom (of 4 kids by 4 fathers) who has been nursing an upper respiratory infection for a week or two.

Similarly, do not tell me that little Shantiqua is ‘bleeding bad’ with her 1cm cut, that your bullshit pain is 10/10, that you are suicidal when you took 3 Tylenol instead of 2 (gasp!) after mommy grounded you, or that because your emergency is the worse that you’ve ever had, that it’s the worst that could possibly happen in the sum total of human experience. I’m supposed to act like your story is the saddest tale that I’ve ever heard. It’s not. Sad? Sad is when the drunk driver that killed the kids is unhurt. Sad is when someone is actively psychotic but still lucid enough to know that they have driven away everyone in their life and ruined everything with their madness. Sad is listening to the same beautiful young woman beg for some medicines that will stop the hallucinations while crying in frustration and screaming her angst.

Sad is when people pull up to the front of the hospital with a dead relative in the passenger seat of their car. I mean this guy had been dead for 15 minutes and the family only focused on driving to the hospital. Did they pull over and call 911 in an area where the average response time is 5 minutes? No. Did they do CPR? No. Did they expect me to single-handedly yard this 265 lb guy out of the car, into a wheelchair, back to the ER, do CPR, code him just like on TV, and make a miracle happen? Yes! Yes that’s exactly what they expected. I sat there with my fingers stuck in his throat where his pulse should have been and said “He’s dead, he’s been dead for 15 minutes. What is it that you expect us to do?” We argued over his blue/gray corpse for about a minute before I reluctantly took him back to the ER and started the rain dance. Guess what? After we abused his corpse for 20-30 minutes (not my decision) he was STILL DEAD. Who would have thought?

Yes, I know what’s going on tonight. I’ve seen your exact symptoms hundreds of times. I order your X-rays, labs, ECG, and then read/interpret them (and you) before deciding where you’re sent. The whole model of my HMO’s emergency service (and the withholding of that service) is built on our clinical judgement. I am not (nor do I want to be) a doctor and I am not allowed to ‘diagnose’. Yet my job responsibilities and description require me to do exactly that in order to facilitate care. This arrives us at a legal fallacy where we (nurses) all pretend that we don’t know what’s going on and that “you’ll have to talk to the doctor” in order to keep our jobs and licenses. When we do tell people exactly what’s up, they use that to decide to leave (without seeing a doctor = legal mess), or argue ( = pain in my ass), or press for more medical advice, or complain, or ask for special treatment, or otherwise cause problems. Tired of not being told what’s up by the person with the knowledgeable smile? Tough shit. No, I’m not stupid. Telling you has only got me into trouble in the past. As I don’t know you, you’re not worth it.

Do not believe that because your doctor told you to come right to the ER that you have a right to be seen right away. Let us discuss why he really said that; LIABILITY. Your doctor doesn’t give a rat’s ass about little Johnny’s sniffles as long as he’s out of the clinic before 5:00. Filling up his over-booked appointment calender could have an adverse affect on that, but sending them ‘right away’ to the ER won’t! AND no one can ever sue him for bad advice or irresponsible behavior because he TOLD them to go the ER ‘Right away’ for the ‘Highest level of care.’ Gotta keep those malpractice premiums down! Motherfuckers.

There are only two things worse than a doctor that won’t see his own patients:

1) The worse thing is doctors that not only won’t see their own patients, but they send them into the ER with a wildly unrealistic set of expectations. “My doctor told me to come in right away and to go right back! He said I was too sick to wait in the lobby. He ordered you to do tests, they are (stop me if you’ve heard this one before) ON THE COMPUTER”. I’m not taking shit for orders from some lazy-ass, wart burning, boil lancing, sprained ankle rotating, sore throat examining general practitioner who has assessed you OVER THE PHONE and doesn’t even have ER privileges. Piss-off! you can get an appointment at the clinic in three hours and you’ll be fine. Walk down to the lab yourself if you want those tests.

2) Advice nurses are the bane of our existence. Sure they can’t tell everything over the phone, sure people are generally bad communicators, sure the clinics and doctors are over-booked, sure it’s 2-6 weeks out to even see a doctor, sure my cheap-ass HMO added another 90,000 new members last month but no infrastructure to deal with them, but the solution for this is not Not NOT to ‘go to the ER right away where they will fill the fantasies that our unscrupulous marketing department has instilled in you.’ Fuck off. I love getting advice nurses for patients. They must know because they are reluctant to mention it. We hate them all and feel no shame in railing against them while they suffer (off the clock) in their sick and/or injured misery.

People! I could go on for days and days, but I will spare you. Think about every miserable customer service job that you’ve ever had and multiply that by tenfold with whiney patients. It’s not that I hate people; I just hate peoples’ sense of entitlement and instant gratification. Folks might as well say “I have abused my body for decades and I’m here for you to fix me.” WTF?

To review:

1) Don’t be an asshole
2) Lose the weight, stop smoking, take your damn psych meds, and take care of yourself!
3) Its not our fault or responsibility that you’re sick/injured. In fact, it’s probably yours.
4) Folks that arrive dead usually stay dead
5) It’s not like on TV
6) Years of patient abuse have (clearly) left us all a bit burnt
7) Don’t forget your manners when you come to my ER : )

The Lust And The Wounded

Every once in a while I get an e-mail that I’m unsure if I want to use here on The Magic Weekend due to the extreme graphic nature of either the pictures or the stories. As y’all know, I do not edit or spell check these e-mails when I post them here. I do, however, print out the e-mail to read before I transfer it all word for word. Copying and pasting with Blogger tends to create formatting or scripting errors so I have to be careful. I have tried to sit down to do this post for a few days now and each time I get pulled away or I just need to walk away. This story hits very close to home for me. Twenty five years ago this could have been me telling the story. Luckily, this is someone else’s story and not my own. I tell you what tho, I was having some serious flashbacks reading this e-mail from Robert. But, I suppose that is why we have memories so they can sometimes haunt the shit out of us. Without further delay I will begin with Robert’s story on his very recent trip to the emergency room. Robert is 27 years of age, divorced, no children, residing in Sallisaw Oklahoma.

“This past Sunday I was out to my family’s farm lending them a hand with some repairs that need to be done. I was eager to get back to farm to do some work because it seemed it has been years. Recently I separated from the United States Air Force after 8 years of service. Coincidentally it was just after my divorce of 6 years. I settled back into my home town thinking that it would be great to be near my family. I’m the youngest of 9 children, 8 girls and me, the only boy. My parents are getting up there in age and can’t work the farm the way they used to years ago. Which is where I suppose I shall begin. I arrived out there at about 5 a.m. in the morning ready to get to work. They needed a barbed wire fence repaired and that was the task at hand for the day. Everything went well for the first couple of hours and then sometime around 10 a.m. I looked down and realized that my glove had been shredded. After taking the glove off I was presented with the fabulous cut seen in the pictures I sent along with this e-mail. After checking out the cut I went to my truck to get something to wrap it up with to stop the bleeding. Unfortunately all I had was a very dirty t-shirt. It had to do. I hopped into my truck and headed to the house to let them know I was on my way to the emergency room at Sequoya Memorial Hospital because I had cut my hand open.

The drive took about 25 minutes due to having to drive all the winding country roads. When I went inside I was triaged and given clean material to hold on my wound until I could be seen. After a short bit the triage nurse came out to get me. I didn’t notice it before but she was very attractive. Walking behind her and watching her swing really got my blood pumping. After a moment my hand began to throb and the blood started squirting again. Holy shit, I haven’t felt this way in many years. Even though I was bleeding again I liked what I was watching. She sat we down with a gentle touch and proceeded to get the supplies out for the surgeon. Then, the fateful moment, as she was bending over to get into a cabinet on the bottom I found myself staring and then I got caught. Nothing was said, but our eyes met mid-stare so I knew I had been had. Then she looked back away and continues to do whatever she was doing in that cabinet. Then all hell broke loose right before my eyes. She knew I was checking out her ass, she knew she had caught me, and now she decided to turn up the heat. She walked back to me and reached for my hand, which at the time was resting comfortably in my lap. When she put her hands under mine she intentionally touched (repeatedly) my growing hard on. The whole time she continued on as business as usual, never looking up at me. Then, she instructed me where to place my arm and hand so she could clean my wound to be looked at. She made sure that her breasts continuously rubbed my arm. After a moment I could feel how hard her nipples had became. I have no idea what I was thinking at the moment, I just rolled with it, not wanting it to end anytime soon.

Then came the crushing drop back to reality, the doctor came in. He went right to work stitching me up like the laces of a football. The nurse never made eye contact with me the entire time the doctor was is there so I thought it was all over. I remember thinking she was such a dirty flirt. But I can’t lie, I really enjoyed every minute of it. After I was bandaged they both left. Before the doctor left he told me that the nurse would return with my follow up instructions and will answer any questions I had. After a few minutes she returned with my discharge and aftercare paperwork in hand. She went over it all and pointed out that if I had any questions to call the numbers listed at the top of the papers. Then she flipped over the paper and told me to call this number for anything else I wanted to discuss. The number was handwritten and included her name, Mandy. I told her she will probably be hearing from me because there were many things I would like to discuss. She just smiled and left the room. I was smiling as well, maybe even for the same reasons. I know one thing, she made my day and that made a trip to the emergency room worth while in a way.

So, I left the emergency room and was headed home. I stopped at a local hamburger place and grabbed a burger to take home with me. After I enter my house I set everything down so I could get started eating my burger. I looked down at the papers and her phone number was staring back at me. I wonder if she really  wants me to call her. I wonder if it would be professional or personal. It was a odd situation to be getting a woman’s phone number. I thought about calling her the entire time I was eating my burger. Out of the blue my cell phone begins ringing. When I look at the caller i.d. I see that it is my mother calling. We talked for a short while and I explained everything was going to be fine and I would be able to finish up at their house in a few days. After I ended the call I decided I was going to take a shower and wash the day away. After putting a bag on my hand I realized that the whole shower experience was about to get real interesting. The entire shower all I could think about was Mandy. They weren’t very clean thoughts either. I wish to myself that I would have been able to get a glimpse of skin when she caught my eye. All I have is my imagination and it’s damn hard to imagine what someone looks like naked when they are wearing scrubs. So, let’s just say that my shower full of dirty thoughts of Mandy did not conclude with a happy ending if you know what I mean. With nothing better to do I laid up in the bed and watched the tv until I fell asleep. Disappointing that Shark Week isn’t exactly starting off strong for me this year.

I woke up having those same dirty little thoughts of Mandy. I can’t get this women out of my head for some reason. After a bit of the morning passed by I decided just to call her figuring it can’t hurt just to talk to her. One thing led to another and before I knew it I was expecting company about 3 in the afternoon. I don’t know how it happened, I just know that she will be here in less than 5 hours. As each hour ticked off the clock my anticipation of her showing up really made me anxious, almost to the point of being nervous. I don’t know why, this isn’t my first time to have a woman to my house. Well, actually it is, to this house at least. I haven’t had a date since way back when I was just starting out in the Air Force and we ended up getting married. I haven’t had a date of any sorts since my divorce or anything that actually resembles female companionship for that matter. I straightened up my house as good as I could, it wasn’t that dirty to begin with. I got to thinking it was probably time to finish unpacking, but not today. I dressed relatively casual, shorts and a polo type shirt, simple. At around 2 O’clock time began to stand still. I had to get my mind off of the clock and time in general. I decided to play on the xBox a while to kill the last bit of time, I haven’t played Halo in a while so this should be interesting.

A knock on the door startled the crap out of me because I was into playing my game deep. I jumped up, dusted the chip crumbs off my shirt, and headed for the door. as I put my hand on the knob I had to remind myself to just breathe. When I opened the door I was stunned with how Mandy looked. Everything went into slow motion as I watched her hair blow gently in the breeze and then finally she grabbed my hand and asked if I was okay because I looked as if I were going to pass out on her right there for a few moments. In my head I know it is because all the blood in my body did a mass exodus straight into my shorts. She glanced down for a second and then looked back up at me asking if that was for her. I was stunned! In my head I’m thinking fuck yea it’s for you……..what did you bring for me! As she entered into my house I couldn’t help but notice the dress she was wearing. It was simple, it clinged to her in all the right places. I don’t think she was wearing a bra because she could cut diamonds with her nipples. Just as I remembered, her ass was incredible! I just wanted to reach out and touch it to make sure this was all real. She sure smells real. I offered her a seat on the couch and a drink of her choice. She wanted some ice water because she was burning up with the heat outside. I lowered the temperature for the air conditioning to help cool her off. What I really wanted was to turn on the heat just to see how sweaty she would get. But, let’s see where she wants to go with all of this first. She sipped her water while we made small talk for a while. She is like a bear trap for my mind and won’t let it go for nothing.

She stood up slowly and asked for me to point her in the direction of the bathroom. Well, that’s easy because there is only one bathroom. I showed her the way and she went in shutting the door behind her. I went back out to the living room and waited, and waited, until finally it seemed like this was taking way to long. I walked down to the bathroom and thought I heard water splashing. I called her name at the door and she answered with a come in here I am just cooling off in the bath. ?????? She’s doing what…..where…..right now?? I slowly opened the door, I tried to peek a little to see if she was telling the truth. Now I know I am dreaming, there is a fabulous looking blonde sprawled out in my bathtub! Holy hell this can’t be happening for real…….can it? It was indeed very true. There she was without a stitch laid out completely naked in my tub. Let’s throw caution to the wind I thought as I sat down on the toilet next to the tub. I could do nothing but stare at her and could see that she was cooling off because her skin was crawling with goosebumps. Casually I reached into the water between her legs and the water was ice cold. When my hand retracted I brushed the inside of her thigh and her skin was sizzling still. Never once did she open her eyes, she just laid there with this smirky little smile on her face. After a bit she sat up and asked if I was just going to sit there or if I could wash her back. I can wash a back I assure you. She stood up with her backside facing me and sat onto the edge of the tub. She handed me the liquid soap and the washcloth and told me to get busy. I lathered up the washcloth and began to wash her back, I watched the soap run down her back and down the crack of her beautiful ass. As I moved down she would sway back and forth a bit, my guess is she liked what I was doing. When I got down to her ass she stood up and bent over saying that it would be easier to get every inch of it now. Very true, I lathered her up and down, from her feet all the way back up. She turned to me and began to undress me rather harshly and rushed.

She told me to get in the tub so washing her frontside would be easier. I sat down, stretching my legs out as she wasted no time sitting in my lap facing me. She slid up so her ass was resting right on my already hard ready to explode dick. She was spread wide open when she put her feet up beside my shoulders and she laid all the way back. She handed me the cloth and told me to get to scrubbing and stop the staring. Well, at least she knows what she wants! I did my best to make this take as long as I could. The soapier she became the more her hands were moving. She would massage herself and trade of into massaging me, she would stroke and pump slowly while she dry humped me. Before I knew it she had slid me inside her as she rolled forward and began kissing me. I think her sixth sense had kicked in and she slid off of me and stood up. Man, another bath without a happy ending. What is she doing to me and why is she doing it. She slipped out of my grip and slinked away dripping wet. I got out of the tub right fast to see what the hell she was up to. When I got into the living room she was bent over the back of my recliner. Without hesitation I walked up behind her and slid back in. At that point I was no longer in control, she made me ride her like a bucking bronco. I could see no end in sight, she had her way with me, which was okay by me, for the next couple hours. Not that I was hoping for it, but it was finally over. We both lie on the floor winded, sweaty, and needing a rest.

After a while she sat up, stood up, then helped me up. She went to the bathroom and came out getting dressed as she was walking. She took a look at my hand and decided that it needed to be re-bandaged because the other one had become quite unraveled. She took of the old ones and replaced it with a fresh one then leaned in to give me a long hard kiss. She explained she will want to see me again very soon and not make her wait so long this time. Very well nurse, I will be sure to keep you coming over here. We will have to see how that works out. I wonder if this means we are dating or just fuck buddies. We will that unfold as it may. After letting her out I watched as she walked down the driveway, her ass still treats me the same, I hope she will come back.”

I will need to follow up with Robert on this one I think. I will also need to scold him for not sending a picture in of Mandy. I will say this to y’all, he was nervous about me posting this story because he didn’t know how people at Blogcatalog would react. I don’t think he has to worry, his Blogcatalog identity is safe with me. And this, boys and girls, is how this blog works, y’all send me your stories and I take the time to share them with whoever will read them. I hope y’all enjoyed the story. I look forward to seeing more brave souls from BC coming forward with their stories of Sex, Jail, Money, Blood, or Fame. Until next time…………………….have a great weekend!