To be fair to the doctor, he had a good reason for being skeptical.
Five hours but most was in the waiting area. It was a simple broken finger bone and shortly after I arrived all Hell broke loose from a major car wreck and a few unrelated cardiac cases. It was during a NFL home-team game and … not the best time to be lightly injured if you are impatient. I am quite a patient patient so no harm and no foul as far as I was concerned.
I’m 63 years old, never been to a hospital.
Less than a half hour. A few times, I didn’t even get a chance to sit down. But my stepdaughter once broke her ankle, and it was over an hour and a half before she was seen, because several ambulance-loads of victims had just come in from a car crash, and they had triage pretty well backed up.
The first time I went to the ER, I was in the waiting room for four and a half hours. It was another three or four, periodically interrupted by people who were not a doctor but were at least doctor-adjacent, before my issue was taken care of.
To be fair, I made it clear that it was a case of unstoppable panic attacks, and that I was there not because I thought they were going to kill me, but because I was uninsured and without a PCP at the time, and I was probably going to require sedatives. (Urgent care clinics where I was did not deal in any controlled substances. No painkillers, no stimulants, and definitely no benzodiazepines. It was the ER or nothing for those.) I wasn’t exactly having a good time, but I was totally fine with being sent to the back of the line whenever anything even remotely urgent came up.
I’ve since moved to a much more humane area of the country. Last trip, I think it took about five hours total, from front doors to filling the prescription and walking out. Most of the wait was because they were dealing with a lady in one of the nearby rooms who was having a psychotic episode, and kept threatening to beat the hell out of her hallucinations.
I’m firmly in the middle here, apparently. About 6 hours when I had nausea, disorientation and dizziness/light-headedness at work and they called an ambulance for me. I lay on a gurney for that long in the ER before they actually confirmed that I had an infection and admitted me. I’ve never been so happy to transfer to a hospital bed in my life. Gurneys are NOT comfortable.
I’ve got a great story for this, but too durnk to post it now…
I’ve only gone to the ER for other people.
The longest total wait was about 25’, but this was in an ambulatory ER (you’re not even supposed to go there if it looks serious) and I don’t even remember what the issue was, some problem my mother was having. Being an ambulatory ER with only one doctor+nurse on duty, there was no receptionist. When we got there, there was one patient with the doctor and one outside. When we left there was nobody waiting, so we were asked to leave the office’s door open.
The one time I took someone to the ER in the US (my landlady), the doc came by real quick once we were in the curtained area. Before we got there, there were those questions about insurance and pushback to let me in since I was “obviously not family”, two things I’d previously thought came from the rectal orifices of scriptwriters. The insurance details were on the way and the head fireman-EMT got me in saying “she’s the person in charge, she goes in”. The obviously not family thing still pisses me off. Even if the vagaries of genetics had made it impossible for us to be blood family (which isn’t the case), I could have been family by marriage or adoption. But no: in the eyes of that hospital-person, she was black* and I was white, therefore we couldn’t be family.
- I’d guess about 1/8 black ancestry, the rest white. What I’ve heard called “high yellow”, specially when she was young and not tanned by the Florida sun.
I was in a car accident (T boned at an intersection), and left without being transported to the hospital. I felt okay then. But I’d put my face through the driver’s side window and my headache was getting worse and worse. My father took me to the ER and they promptly stuck me in a cubicle. And I waited. And waited. for about 4 hrs. I had a book, and I was dozing, and I’m pretty patient by nature. Meanwhile, my large, concerned family started calling the hospital, asking for updates. When my father heard them say, “For the LAST TIME, we don’t have a patient named StGermain!”. My father said, “oh, yes, you do, I brought her in myself”.
Apparently they forgot to put me on the board and assign me to someone. They lost me.
StG
When I snapped off my wrist bone, I waited four hours for first broken armt specialist, and two more hours for the broken wrist specialist he called because “you have to see this.”
When I had a broken foot I waited maybe 2.5 hours after triage.
Last night I was there and home in 3.5 hours. It’s good to live near a good hospital in a more rural part of the state. If it was the hospital near where I work I might still be there.
Several hours, but I had already been to the ER 1200 miles from home, had x-rays for a pilon tibia/fibula fracture, had an ortho consult, been told I would need surgery, and flown home in a puke-covered bathrobe and a cast up to my hip to go to the ER in the hospital near home where I would have the surgery. I brought the initial x-ray films with me, everyone already knew what the issue was, and I just needed some IV fluids and painkillers until they could schedule the surgery. (They had to wait a few days for the swelling to go down.)
Some years ago, I had a strange, spasming pain in my lower abdomen that might’ve been my appendix, or one of several other serious problems. I phoned my doctor and she suggested I go to the emergency room, which I did. It was about 3 in the afternoon, not a lot of other people waiting, so they took me in pretty quickly and got me into an ER bed.
Early on, the first doctor I saw determined that it was my appendix. I had a couple of scans/tests for other possible problems; by now it was evening. I was back in my little curtained-off area of the ER. I lay down… and waited.
Evening passed into night. A quiet night in the ER; as I recall, there was only one other person, a kid who had had a motorbike accident and he needed more attention than I did. There was a little TV on AMC back when it showed decent movies, and I watched Patton.
Eventually, long after midnight, someone got back to me and said they couldn’t find any serious problems causing the pain. The spasms had stopped by then anyway. I drove home, at about 3 am.
I still don’t know what that abdominal pain was. It’s never recurred.
It’s a real phenomenon.
20ish years back, a friend called and asked me to take her to the ER due to severe back pain (she had a history of herniated disc / surgery for same). They wouldn’t let me wait with her when they took ger back.
More recently, though, they’ve changed things. About 5 years ago I had to take a visiting student to the ER (he’d had a fall while skiing), and they let me back with him. And a year or so back, another friend needed to go to the ER and I was able to wait with her. (( think she regretted it though, I kept offering to donate her kidneys :D).
I was behind the curtain for a long time when my appendix flared up. It got painful enough that I started yelling, and they came in with a morphine drip because I was scaring kids (there was apparently some horrible virus a lot of kids were coming in with that night).
The next time this happens, check a few of your local pharmacies first. I also scratched myself on a rusty nail in 2012, and while a few urgent cares were already a thing here, it was on a holiday and neither of the ones reasonably close were open. While I had to drive to southern Maine (which isn’t actually too far away - open urgent cares in NH that day weren’t much closer) to find a Walgreens that’d give me the shot, I spent less than 30 minutes there.
I smashed my ulna into a dozen pieces, and I discovered after the 8-hour operation that the residents had been fighting over who got to assist. It’s never good news when the doctors are actually interested in your case.
I can think of two specific, contrasting visits in my adult life.
Visit #1, I had mangled a couple fingers by getting them caught in the gears of a Linotype. I went to the ER and was pretty quickly put on a gurney after a nurse wrapped my hand in gauze. And then I waited. And waited some more. It was a Saturday evening and things were happening. I kept getting to the front of the line and then an ambulance would roll up with a heart attack or a car crash (or both?) victim. I laid there in the hallway for about** 8 hours**. I was entertainment for the medical staff that evening. Every so often, a nurse, intern or resident would wander up, saying that I had a really interesting injury. They’d ask to look and I’d say, “Sure!” They’d say, “Wow!” or “Ew!” or some combination of that and put the gauze back on.
When the doctor eventually came to take care of things, she said, “I’m not really sure to see what to what. Go see a hand surgeon tomorrow in case I got it wrong.” She did well, even the surgeon said so. One finger looks a little weird, but I thought it was coming off so there’s that.
The other visit I’m thinking of, same hospital, and a similar Saturday evening time frame. Went to sign in and told the woman at the desk that I was having pain in my left arm. I don’t even think my butt fully hit the seat before a big strapping dude came out around the corner and picked me up and hauled me into a room. Time from walking in the door to being hooked up to everything and given nitroglycerin: easily less than five minutes.
A lot of drugstores now offer various immunizations on a walk-in basis. I don’t know if tetanus is one of them (they tend to advertise shingles and pneumunia hereabouts) but it couldn’t hurt to ask.
A few even have a clinic at some locations.
Both would be subject to normal pharmacy hours, of course, but indeed you might spend less time waiting.