Yesterday my left eye was bothering me a little, and I thought it was a sty which can usually be ignored and will go away in a couple of days.
This morning when I was shaving I noticed my eyelid was quite swollen and I thought, hmm…, this may be an infection that’ll requiire some antibiotics to get rid of; if it’s not receding by morning, I’ll call my doc. A couple of hours later my eye is about one third shut and I have this warm sensation on the left side of my face, so I go look in the mirror.
Ack! My left cheekbone has disappeared and my left eye is not quite aligned with my right. Debate, debate…if this is some bizarre infection, it needs to do combat with antibiotics, and at the rate it’s growing, I won’t be able to open that eye tomorrow.
Well, this isn’t quite ER material, so I decide maybe I’ll just go to one of those 24-hour Doc-in-a-Box places that seem to only be in the poor parts of town. I grab my M-Z yellow pages and roam to “Medical” stuff and discover that these places are listed under “Emergency Medical Care” in the A-L directory. Shortly I discover that I have four years’ editions of the M-Z and zero A-L directories. Curse those cleaning binges!
Now’s the time to call some friends and inquire as to their possession of an A-L yellow pages (my friends just love me). Guy’s lookin’ stuff up while wife (an RN) is standing right next to him saying, “beatle, just go to the g*ddamn ER!” I’m still convinced this is a bit minor for ER ministrations.
Armed with a couple of numbers, I discover that they are all no longer in service - I’d had the feeling that the D-in-a-B might be an ultimately marginal business, so I’m not surprised. Still, though, no Sunday doctor.
So I’m near blowing it off, but still concerned. Then I remember that ~1.5 miles from my home is one of the premier medical facilities on the planet - the Texas Medical Center. You know there’s some docs on duty up there. So I grab my checkbook and head on over.
Geez, when I get there I have another round of debate about how silly it is to be grabbing a place in line amongst the heart-stricken and recently stabbed. I make a long block to think it over once again…, WTF, I pull in a parking garage. When I get down the stairs, I kind of dodge the front door and act, for about 25 yards, as if I’m just out for a stroll.
No, I’ve parked in the Medical Center, I might as well go through with it. I’m here now (thank you Baba Rum Raisin) and I’ll just have to go through the whole routine with my doc tomorrow if I bail. If they’re having triplets amidst heart attacks and gangsta gunfire when I get to ER (prime reason I didn’t go to Ben Taub), I’ll just fade away.
Arriving at ER on the heels of a couple of EMTs with a very, very pale woman on their stretcher, I ask if I can see a doctor. The guy at the desk sits me right down and takes a history and a complaint. He (whose green, non-professional tattoos reach beyond his scrubs - I think I know where those were acquired) and another guy do the temp, blood pressure, heartbeat thing in a flash. I don’t know the guy’s history, but he’s what you want in a med tech - absolutely focussed on my insignificant malady for an efficient amount of time.
Ultimately it turned out that I was in and out of there in about the same time than it takes to go to my own doctor (~1 hour). This was the Methodist Hospital ER. The techs tested my eyesight and then put me in the eyeball room where a doc came and looked me over.
It’s a sty. I went to ER for a zit!!!
I told the doc I thought it was a bit silly to be in ER for such and he told me don’t sweat it, it is a monster specimen.
And he gave me a 'scrip for Tylenol #3. I didn’t even ask for pain meds, I was just worried that it might require ABs and, if so, perhaps I’d better get started.
Well, now I’ve got my medecine and I’m gettin’ better.
Yours,
From La-La Land,
beatle
