Please Believe My Disease
The Emergency Room is every chronically ill person's worst nightmare and last resort. When you are sick enough to require an ambulance ride, the last thing you want to have to worry about is whether or not the medical professionals will believe you once you get there. There are times when answers are not immediately apparent. This space in between the onset of symptoms and diagnosis is when people with a chronic disease suffer the most for a variety of reasons.
The opioid crisis in our country has America on edge, and for good reason. I personally know of at least four former friends in my life that have died from overdoses in just the past two years. Everyone has been touched by the disease of addiction in one way or another. I, however, am not a junkie, as any administered hospital drug test will conclude. That doesn't stop the nurses and doctors from assuming I am a drug seeker before they even know my history.
I have been left for hours, curled up in a fetal position on the floor of a triage room. Vomiting violently and uncontrollably while randomly choking on the foul liquid. After five or six hours of being completely neglected, I summon the energy to get to the nurse's station to ask how much longer only to be told that I should go out into the general waiting area because there were people there much worse off than I was.
The accusatory attitudes don't just begin at the hospital staff. The first responders are often inconsiderate as well. One time in particular I remember a female paramedic telling me to "Get up" after I had spent hours vomiting nothing but bile. I didn't have the energy to blink much less pick myself up off the floor. This was only after I had already spent a couple hours becoming extremely sick at home and in denial about where I was headed.
The bloodwork and tests will always be irregular enough to require a CT scan. I am always dangerously dehydrated. Being admitted for further testing is a validation and I am finally given the drugs I need to stop the vomiting which happens to be in the opiate family. This has happened to me numerous times at the same hospital, there should be a record of what has helped each time on file. Yet each time I encounter medical personnel who are not versed in my disease throwing ideas at me, only guessing what is wrong.
Our medical system in the United States is desperately flawed for many more reasons than I have outlined here. It is bad enough to have a chronic illness without being seen as a liar or hypochondriac. Assuming each patient is a drug addict should not be the first thing that runs through an emergency caregiver's mind. Compassion goes a long way when you are that sick and we will all need that at least one day in our lives.
The opioid crisis in our country has America on edge, and for good reason. I personally know of at least four former friends in my life that have died from overdoses in just the past two years. Everyone has been touched by the disease of addiction in one way or another. I, however, am not a junkie, as any administered hospital drug test will conclude. That doesn't stop the nurses and doctors from assuming I am a drug seeker before they even know my history.
I have been left for hours, curled up in a fetal position on the floor of a triage room. Vomiting violently and uncontrollably while randomly choking on the foul liquid. After five or six hours of being completely neglected, I summon the energy to get to the nurse's station to ask how much longer only to be told that I should go out into the general waiting area because there were people there much worse off than I was.
The accusatory attitudes don't just begin at the hospital staff. The first responders are often inconsiderate as well. One time in particular I remember a female paramedic telling me to "Get up" after I had spent hours vomiting nothing but bile. I didn't have the energy to blink much less pick myself up off the floor. This was only after I had already spent a couple hours becoming extremely sick at home and in denial about where I was headed.
The bloodwork and tests will always be irregular enough to require a CT scan. I am always dangerously dehydrated. Being admitted for further testing is a validation and I am finally given the drugs I need to stop the vomiting which happens to be in the opiate family. This has happened to me numerous times at the same hospital, there should be a record of what has helped each time on file. Yet each time I encounter medical personnel who are not versed in my disease throwing ideas at me, only guessing what is wrong.
Our medical system in the United States is desperately flawed for many more reasons than I have outlined here. It is bad enough to have a chronic illness without being seen as a liar or hypochondriac. Assuming each patient is a drug addict should not be the first thing that runs through an emergency caregiver's mind. Compassion goes a long way when you are that sick and we will all need that at least one day in our lives.
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