I don’t know if ever mentioned why I stopped going to the emergency room every time I had chest pains. It wasn’t the fact that if they admitted me overnight and it was a false alarm that I would be on the hook for over $2,000. The last time that I took myself to the emergency room, I had an epiphany. It started out like all the other times that I had chest pains. I walked into triage, gave them my insurance card and implored them not to let me die. They took my vitals like all the other episodes, temperature and blood pressure. They put an IV in and drew my blood for testing; they looked at my eyes and ears and popped an aspirin in my mouth. Finally, they sent me for a CAT scan, this was exactly the same as my previous experiences. The only difference was that this hospital was overcrowded and because of this they had three people in every room, separated merely by thin linen curtains. I found myself in the center with one male patient on my left and another on my right.
The nurse came in and came towards my bed, “good news” she said, “the first blood test came back negative, we should have the results of the next one in about an hour and then the doctor will come in and see you.” This happened all the other previous times, if the second test came back negative they’d probably say it was a gastric issue. I knew they were always wrong and was wondering if at this hospital they would have cardiologists who really knew their stuff and would finally find that rare heart ailment I’d always suspected I had. As I waited for the results of the second test, a doctor walked into the partition next to me. This patient had been coughing and sneezing for over an hour, “Mr. Russo I’m Dr. Newfield, the test they gave you when you first came in has come back positive for the flu.” “Ugh,” I thought to myself and rolled away from him, now facing the opposite curtain.
The guy in there was also coughing but not sneezing, he had a deeper, mucousy cough. The doctor then walked towards him, and because I was now facing him, I could hear everything. “Hello Mr. Murphy I’m Dr. Newfield, are you feeling any better now?” I could barely make out the word no, because he was coughing so intensely, “How long have you had tuberculosis?” asked the doctor. My eyes were popping out of my head, “I don’t have TB,” he replied coughing up a lung, “my wife has it.” The doctor then said, “Well I’m sorry, but you have it also now.”
It would be just my luck, I thought to myself, to come in with another bogus heart attack only to leave with tuberculosis and a side order of the flu. I didn’t even want to see the doctor, because by now he’s a carrier. I saw the nurse walking past my section, “Nurse!” “Nurse!” I cried out, “check please!”