Common Sense Is a Loosely Used Term

It's been a while, but we're back.

There are some bodily things that are common sense to most of us. We regularly brush our teeth; we try to eat healthy; we put on sunscreen. Most responsible adult people care to maintain their body to at least some degree. Or do they?

Mr. Marlboro man got mugged one night and kicked in the groin multiple times. Naturally, he came to the hospital for some much needed assistance and got sent home with a strong painkiller. Several days later, he noticed a growing black spot on his groin. But he waited. And waited. And by the time he came in, he had flesh eating-bateria that had devoured most of his scrotum and leg. Sounds fun huh?

Now let's ask the jury: would you sit on a growing black necrotic spot? OR think to yourself "maybe I should go back and get this checked out?" As much fun as flesh-eating bacteria is, I would opt for the hospital and saving essential body parts. But that's just me.

Mrs. G developed a tumor on her abdomen. But because the thought of having cancer was so horrendous to her, she decided she would ignore it and put it out of her mind. She successfully tricked her consciousness to believe that she didn't have a tumor. So by the time she came in, it was the size of a watermelon and terminal.

As good as I would look in a swimsuit and as much as I would like to give myself a psych disorder, I think I would opt for tumor removal at my earliest convenience. Just sayin.

Let's just call him David. David went to a rap concert and of course had to get high and drunk because apparently it's no fun sober. So he smoked and drank and, surprisingly enough, fell down a flight of very concrete stairs. As a total buzzkill, the paramedics brought him in and we evaluated him for a head injury. He wouldn't let us call his parents and we couldn't legally without his permission. So I was stuck babysitting a drunk kid.

But in walks his visitor. His "girlfriend" fell asleep in a chair in the ER and someone brought her up. It's the middle of the night, she's in high school, and she's wearing no shoes.

Let's stop on the no-shoes thing for a minute. Do you realize how many people have spit, puked, peed, pooped, spilled, rubbed a communicable disease on, or had a baby on those floors? A LOT. AND YOUR FEET ARE TOUCHING THAT. I would not, over my dead body, sit, sleep, or let my child roll around on that floor. Just take yourself down to the ER and ask them to burn the first layer off your skin.

Continuing on. Marcie walks in with no shoes. Her dress is so short I can see way too much on both ends and her makeup is stained down her face from crying and sleeping. In short, she's a hot mess. I sit her down, get her a blanket to cover herself up before a drunk patient tries to hit on her, and try to get the details.

"So is this your boyfriend?"

"Well we've gone out a couple times"

"Why don't you go home, take a shower, and come back later on in the morning?"

"I don't know where my car is."

"You don't know where his house is?"

"No, I don't remember."

"Ok well let's call your mom and get her to come pick you up"

"They don't care. I'll call them in the morning"

"I'm sure they won't mind coming to get you, considering the circumstances."

"It's alright."

So homegirl has no car, no food, no parents who want to pick her up even though she's still in high school and obviously doesn't know the meaning of "high standards". I let her borrow some hospital pants and give her a dollar for the vending machine. And I refrained from saying "don't stay with this loser! Go to college and get a boyfriend who isn't high and clumsy!" And get out of here before someone draws your blood for a tox screen too.

Ms. Collins had some decaying, loose teeth at home. But she didn't have time to get them fixed. So she superglued them in. And she thought that was a good idea at the time. But then she got in a car wreck and they fell out. The daughter wanted to know if she could get free dentures since she was in the hospital! Negative ma'am. This is what your tax dollars go to, people.

I don't even have time to talk about all the people who get an infected tooth, sit on it, and end up with a giant infection over their entire face that has to be cut out with multiple following plastic surgeries. Or the diabetics who one day notice their foot is green or black and get really pissed when you tell them it has to come off. Or my 450 lb patient who sat and ate a bucket of butter popcorn and bossed me around all day. I'm sorry I'm inconveniencing you when I just broke my back trying to pull you up in bed.

I'm not trying to sound insensitive. It's my comic way of showing that not all of the world has the same standards of hygiene or healthcare. I'm not saying you have to floss everyday but let's make a collective effort to prevent blackened body parts. Is that asking too much from the general public?

Thank you to all of your who do actually floss, brush your teeth, see a dentist, see a doctor, take your insulin, eat healthy, work out, avoid dirty needles, get vaccinations, make good life decisions, and don't sleep with shady people. Your contribution to society is duly noted.

Twas the Season to Be Jolly

Twas the season to be jolly. I'm referring to those individuals who ventured out into the chilly weather to attend holiday parties, imbibe excessive amounts of alcohol, and screw that better judgment (yeah!) by proving their ignorance in the form of drunk driving. Or those who chose to stay home this year and smash, crush, and snort various plant or medicinal derivatives leading to a soporific stupor or joining their alcoholic friends in taking the wheel, valiantly ready to conquer the menacing highway 75. Twas the season for smoking, snorting, drinking, shooting, experimenting, fighting, and vomiting. Twas the season for pot, cocaine, cheese, heroin, alcohol, codeine, amphetamines, benzos, and, my personal favorite, all the shit in your crazy aunt's medicine cabinet at once.

A early twenties kid comes in from an MVC. He states he wasn't driving but there was no one else at the scene...that leaves you buddy. We ask him the obligatory "do you do drugs" question or in his case "what do you do?" He proceeds to list off an honestly quite impressive list. Shoots heroin 3-4 X a day. Takes 5 or 6 hydrocodone in a day. Mixes it up by snorting some cheese (heroin plus tylenol pm). I think there were some benzos in the bunch too (ativan, xanax, etc). You always ask a druggie where they shoot up because they know their veins much better than you and can usually point you to a good IV spot. It's a strange kind of role reversal...All in all, he hadn't been fully conscious in 3 years and was flunking out of community college. (The most heartbreaking part about that story was his younger brother, who no doubt looks up to his stoner brother, broke down crying at the bedside. Mom gave me a look that meant she already knew. She didn't even have to ask).

He starts complaining of pain so I give him one hydrocodone (the usual ordered dose). He literally scoffs at it and says he takes 4 or 5. Welp, sorry. You only get one. This isn't your own personal pharmacy. It's your fault you have the tolerance of a 400 pound pro wrestler.

He continues to whine (literally, it sounded like my younger sister when we were little and she was upset) and threatens to throw up. Oh goodness, you're going to puke?? What will I do?? I better give you twelve hydrocodone. Nope. Go ahead, vomit. You don't scare me.

Then he threatens diarrhea. Clearly, he doesn't understand that my JOB is to clean up CRAP. Do your worst. You'll be more uncomfortable than I will.

Finally he passes out and I hand him off. I don't mean to sound insensitive but people who do drugs are generally very manipulative and you have to put your foot down. Otherwise a girl like me gets taken for granted. taken for a ride. used. You get the picture.

My second prime example is a young gentleman who had a brain bleed. He was a chronic drug abuser with Turrets with his crazy boyfriend at the bedside. Talk about a triple threat. He just sat there yelling "ow, ow, ow, ow" over and over and everyone really did feel very bad for him. He took so much morphine at home that nothing we gave him would nullify or improve the pain. You had to feel sorry for him because he was cute but after a while I needed someone to push the off button (again, don't take me for an insensitive jerk).

These cases are not the anomalies. Sometimes our frequent flier drug abusers are well known to everyone in the ER, homeless, and have underlying psych issues. But I'm not stereotyping. Anyone can have a knee replacement, get a little too used to taking their codeine, and end up sneaking around breaking into their neighbors medicine cabinets or having fifteen primary doctors who ALL fill their Ativan prescription. It's all too common and all too frequent. So let's all learn a valuable lesson from this holiday season and say no to drugs! That public service message was useful. in 1984. I think the kids in those commercials are still wearing high tops and neon polyester jackets.

So to quote from a fellow crazie (because we all know it would just be rude to quote David at the Dentist), "hide your kids. Hide your wife. Cause there's a [drug abuser] in the neighborhood. Run and tell that".