Saturday, September 19, 2009

It's Not A Tumah! It's Not!

"OH MY GOD !  MY WIFE IS HAVING A SEIZURE IN THE CAR!  HELP ME!"  He screams as he runs through the ER doors.

Up we jump, 'cuz we're like Les Schwab Employees.........always running to greet you.

Lucy and I hop up out of the chairs at Nurse's Station, leaving our Peanut M&M's behind.  Sigh.....I had just opened that damn bag.  Now I won't get to finish it.

We walk out the double doors and into the drive up.  A blue '78 Caddy is idling with the front door open.  A large, no very large, lady is sitting in the front seat applying lipstick.  

"Is this your wife?" I ask.

"Yes ma'am," he replies.

"She's not having a seizure," Lucy says.  She's a smart one, that Lucy.  

"Well she was!"  he insists.  "She had a seizure at home so I threw her in the car and drove her up here!  It scared me!"

You threw her in the car? I was thinking.  How on God's green Earth did you do that alone? 

Finally his wife pipes up, "Oh yes, I had a seizure.  I'm so lethargic now.  I just can barely stand up honey.  You'll have to help me out of the car."

Um....... I call a bullshit. 

"No ma'am.  You'll have to get into this chair on your own.  I've got a bad back."

Up she pops and flops down into the chair.

"OK dear, you better hurry and get me in there because I feel another seizure coming on."

Oh Dear God.

Lucy and I escort her back to Exam 2 and get her onto a stretcher.  She pulls out her cell phone and calls her daughter as I'm trying to obtain her history.

"Sarah?  Sarah?  You better come up to the ER.  It's your mommy honey.  I can feel a seizure coming on and they have me in the ER.  Hurry baby, hurry!"

Oh for Christ's Sake.  Insert eye roll here.

I hooked her up to the monitor and got her vitals.  I finished her history and went out to talk to Dr. Q.  It was right about this time that her daughter showed up.  She walked into her mother's room and within 10 seconds was out in the hallway screaming "MY MOTHER IS HAVING A SEIZURE!  HELP ME!"

So Lucy and I leisurely make our way to her room.  By leisurely I mean we finished our bag of Peanut M&M's and downed the rest of our Diet Cokes.  We then scratched our butts and walked over there.

Now before you give me the whole uneducated attitude of "GASP!  What a shitty nurse.  Why would you not RUN?  Run, Forest Run!  That poor lady is having a seizure.", let me explain something to you........

This lady was having a seizure like I was winning the lottery.....

Not happening.

I did not for one second ever think this woman truly had a seizure.  Not once did she act post-ictal.  

Anyway - back to Exam 2.

Lucy and I walked in to the room and observed her "seizure."  And let me tell you, that's a loose word to describe this event.  I like to think that "Idiotic fake ass 3 year old fit thrower faker" would be more suitable.

Our patient's husband and daughter were standing beside her stretcher wringing their poor little hands while our patient was babbling and cooing like a baby.

I shit you not.

She was shaking her head back and forth and saying "wah wah wah bah bah bah momma momma dadda dadda wah wah wah bah bah" over and over.  And over.   Then she started kicking her legs.   And asking for her "ba-ba".

Oh Good Lord in Heaven above.  Help me please.

Right about that time, Dr. Q runs in to save the day.  "CT Scan STAT!"

"Dr Q - please observe the patient's seizure first."

He takes one look at her and orders a psych consult, then turns around and walks out the door.

Daddy and Sarah were not too happy with us.  "She doesn't need a psychiatrist!  She needs a doctor!  There's something wrong with her!  She probably has a tumor."

"It's not a tumah" I said in my best Arnold accent (points for throwing in the Terminator here).

"It's highly unlikely your mother has a tumor," Lucy replied.  "She is not having a seizure, she is having some type of mental event."

All of a sudden Mommie Dearest popped up and said "I am too having a seizure!"

Ho Boy.  We've got ourselves a winner here Bob Barker!

The end result of this visit was a psych consult, a discharge, and a family complaint that we did not offer her a CT Scan for her Tumah.    Two days later I was eating at our local greasy spoon when her daughter came on shift as our waitress.  Oh joy.  I got to hear her tell the guy next to us how the Hospital didn't take care of her mother and she wouldn't even take her dog there.  Well goody for you.  We don't want your dog there either.