What if They Knew?
I often wonder what people expect when they come to the Emergency Department. In triage, I am
bombarded with the same question over and over again. There are variations, of course, but it’s
always the same. They want to know how long they are going to wait. The truth is, I don’t know.
Wait times in the ER can vary greatly from moment to moment based on many different things.
I would love to be able to comfort people with the fact that waiting is a good sign. It means
that your life isn’t in immediate danger. Sure, it’s frustrating, but at least you are better off
than the guy who just got whisked off to the Cath Lab. But nobody wants to hear it and it’s not
appropriate for me to say, so I don’t. Instead, I bite my tongue, force a smile, and do my best
to appease them with answers I don’t have.
But there’s one Saturday evening I will never forget. The wait time to be placed in the ER was
probably around six hours, maybe more. Everyone in the waiting room was grumpy, continually asking
when it was going to be their turn. Then, a man appeared at the window and stated he was having a
heart attack. Before my coworker could get his name, he collapsed. We began CPR right there and
raced him inside as fast as we could. The other nurse and I had barely caught our breath when a
waiting patient bombarded the window, “What? Does somebody have to die to get some attention
around here?” We were both speechless; this person was serious and wanted an answer.
It’s hard sometimes not to lose faith in humanity after listening to hours of grumbling,
complaining and insults. It’s even harder to smile when nothing I do is good enough, because the
ER is not what they expected. But somehow, just when I think I am done, I am reminded. A person
will stop me to say thank you, or a child will smile at me when he’s all better. And then, best
of all, is the time when we save a life.
After seven years in the ER, I know that tragedy occurs every day in many different ways.
Sometimes it’s a freak accident that no one could have prevented. Often, it’s an unfortunate
circumstance of fate. Cynicism could easily overcome me, but I continue to battle it every day,
because nursing is worth it. I love the nursing process; it’s all the added frustrations that
make it so hard to enjoy my job. What if those waiting knew what really happened behind closed
doors and curtains? Would their expectations change?