Okay so I went to the ER a couple of days ago since my back spasm, turned into a total body spasm and for whatever reason my skin decided it wasn't happy unless I was cuddled in absolute soft and plushness. It's GA the heat and humidity when dressed like a polar bear just isn't going to work. So it got to the point of I just couldn't wait to see my PCP, he didn't have anything available until the end of the week and this was just the start of it.

So off to the ER we go, my mom brought me down. The ER doc looked me over, got a chest x-ray because I was having difficulty breathing and they couldn't seem to understand that it was the muscles around the lungs making it difficult not the lungs themselves. But either way it was clear, no obvious problems blood work showed some inflammation but didn't really indicate what was inflamed or why. She consulted my neurologist who suggested it was likely the virus that's spreading around down here, take some advil and drink plenty of fluids, get plenty of rest.

Okay, until I tried to follow the doctor's orders. By the next evening I was in so much pain I couldn't even think straight. My entire left side was lit up like a Christmas tree with pain. I could only just barely manage to catch my breath in between chest spasms. I couldn't even say which part of the left side hurt the worse, I mean it felt like someone had just divided my body completely in half and proceeded to only run over, beat, stab, burn, scrap...etc... the left half of my body.

My mom came and brought me to the ER again, by the time we drove down there, what I had already thought couldn't get worse, did get worse from all the little bumps in the roads and other little minor vibrations and such that comes from car rides. So when they called me back for triage I couldn't even begin to articulate what was wrong. My mind was kind of soupy jello and only focused on, breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out, wait for spasm to finish, breath again...

My mom was doing most of the talking. And explained to the triage nurse. Look my daughter has MS, she's prone to hypersensitivity, she has terrible spasms that are just barely controlled by her home medications but anything else happens to her and they don't work at all. On and on she goes trying to get some understanding from the triage nurse since she's the one who puts through the immediate symptoms and passes them along to the doctor.

The place is packed, we have a long wait ahead of us. We were there for about 2 hours when my left ear started ringing and the right side of my head split open with pain, pretty much taking away my ability to focus on breathing, so my lips started going blue. My mom manages to get me rushed to the back somehow for an EKG and some blood work drawn. The nurse drawing the blood doesn't care that I'm clearly dehydrated and already have been poked a few times from the day before. She puts a straight line in to draw her blood work and shots me back out to the waiting area.

By now my mother is ready to head to another hospital further south, or call an ambulance something, anything. My lips are blue, I'm barely maintaining consciousness and I stopped sweating about an hour ago. And since my hold on my consciousness is so frail, my body is now vibrating and jerking around like a marionette with a drunken master.

We finally get called back, for good this time. And now they have to put in an IV line which should have been put in when the nurse was drawing the blood earlier but wasn't. She took prime property on the veins and left the other nurses with little to deal with. Especially since I was even more dehydrated at that point and far more rigid in the limbs. Finally that had to call the manager of the nursing department over to use an ultrasound to find a useable vein, barely useable, but useable all the same.

I got fluids started right away, and couldn't help but think "Hurray this nightmare should be over now!!!" Well I had no idea it was just beginning.
My first doctor ah... such a sweet sweet doctor. I adored her, and it really had nothing to do with her prescribing narcotics for pain because honestly they didn't work for nothing on an empty stomach and a system getting flushed out by fluids. She was just very tender handed, calm, soothing and reassuring. Come to find out I had a terrible UTI as at least one of the things wrong with me. And she asked, did I notice anything... No, nothing, not until the pain started and it started as spasms not anything to do with a UTI, I was using the restroom fine, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, not using it particularly more or less. I couldn't believe I had one, I've only ever had one a long long time ago and it was given to me by a gyno.

Anyways she offers to admit me there, or she could send me to a hospital further south that's part of my physicians group. Option 2, option 2... why didn't I pick option 2. But no, in my sudden mostly pain free state and not quite fully oxygenated brain, I say I'll stay there.

Enter day 2 at still down in the ER bay since the hospital is packed and dippy the wonder nurse and doctor 2. My DH came down to relieve my mom from watching me at the hospital, and gets handed a menu to bring into my room to order breakfast for me. We pick out a few things that seem like they might be appeitizing, and place our order, it should be dropped off in about 45 mins. Perfect, puts it before pill time, finally I'll have something in my system. Well our breakfast doesn't show up, nurse comes and gives me my pills anyways despite my best efforts to tell her that 2 of them can't be taken on an empty stomach, please, fruit juice even I don't care just something in the stomach before those hit.

Naturally she ignores me and says I have the IV fluids I'll be fine. So down the hatch they have to go, and 10 minutes later I'm ready to find her so I can puke on her shoes. Instead I'm left dry heaving for about 20 minutes. And as it turns out our tray was just outside the door when she was giving me the pills, because it wasn't picked up the cafeteria place thought it meant I ordered things not on my diet plan and took it back. So we had to have another tray sent up, all told it was 3 hours before I got breakfast. And after dry heaving through 20 minutes in the middle of that, I wasn't especially hungry when I did get it.

Well then the nurse has the audacity to tell an assisting nurse how we better do better when ordering out lunch, somehow it was "our fault" that our breakfast didn't get delivered for 3 hours. , but okay fine whatever. I figure I should be able to try and catch a little bit of sleep now. I wasn't able to sleep at all the night before, maybe, just maybe, now that I have my usual meds back in me, and a few bits of food, the morphine should work now and I can at least sleep for a little while. Just as I'm finally able to find a comfortable spot on a very uncomfortable ER bed, dippy the wonder nurse comes back in, she forgot to give me my skelaxin. And she has to go on this huge diatribe about how powerful it is and how nobody really uses it any more and on and on and on to absolutely no point other than making it impossible for me to quickly swallow the forgotten pill and go to sleep.

So exhausted still, and on an uncomfortable bed, fully awaken by the nurse, the morphine they gave me still wants to wear off that quickly. I never asked for morphine but as yet I haven't had a clear enough thinking moment to try and explain that narcotics don't really work well on me, they never have. So I ring the bell, literally crying and begging in pain. Pleading for someone anyone to help me. It's completely unbearable and frankly my brain at that point had become nothing but a bowl of hot jello, there was nobody home and no chance of thinking.

Back and forth we go on this. Somewhere in there I get sent for a CT scan. And another chest x-ray. And after again I call the nurse because I'm just really in too much pain, honestly it was my mom who hit the button since I couldn't even manage that much. Doctor number 2 comes in. She rolls me on to my back, I'm still crying begging for help with every breath I can get. She starts to "feel my stomach" or as it felt like to me "fluff my bed through my abdomen". I loose it, its the last breath that I have but I let out a scream I mean holy mother of god, still it was stupid because now I can't get the lungs to reinflate right away.

The doctor actually grabbed my arm, yelled at me to open my eyes and look at her, that she wasn't hurting me, I was just seeking drugs that's all. Typical drug seeking behavior. That's it. There was nothing wrong with me, so just knock it off right now. (Gone as my mind was I still couldn't help but think oh why did I waste my final breath on a scream, come on lung inflate... inflate so I can say something to her.) Well my mom and husband both were in the room at the time and my mom decided to say something. Telling the doctor that the only narcotics I have been on are the ones that this hospital has given me. There is no way I am suffering from withdrawl.

The doctor has the gall to tell my mom, "That you know of." Now my mom and husband both are like... "No, it's not just that we know of, we know she isn't on narcotics." My mom tells her, "Look she's half blind, she can't drive, she can barely walk, she's disable with MS." The doctor still refuses to listen to either of them and continues to lecture me about the severity of drug use. How I'm too young to be putting my family through this. And after a few karate chops to my back, that actually left a bruise or two. She leaves saying I can only have tordol or motrin for the pain.

I don't care, get rid of the pain, that's all I care about. The nurse comes back in to the room a little while later... Yippee tordol time right... no the doctor still hasn't put in the order for it. An hour later she finally has the orders put into the system. The woman came after the morphine had worn off, tormented and tortured me really, and then left me in fading in and out of conscouiness from pain for an hour. To prove what point is all I really want to know. What did that prove to the doctor?

Well finally, the order comes up for the tordol and I get a new nurse who comes to give it to me, she wasn't even supposed to be at work yet but came in since she knew it was busy. She basically told dippy the wonder nurse that I was now her patient. That nurse had seen me before and I was never so glad for a friendly and familiar face at that point. Once the tordol started to hit my vein it was like blissful relief. It took a bit longer for the worse of it. But it went into effect immediately and lasted me 6 hours easily. I didn't even have to hit the call button before my friendly nurse was back again with another injection of it.

Then they found me a nice comfy bed. And I got pampered and coddled by all the nurses while I was still in the ER bay. It was great, until the doctor came back by again. To feel my stomach again. If I'd had the breath to say it I would have told her thank you for fluffing my bed for me again. So now thanks to her hamfisting me and the hepherin shots I'm pretty much black and blue all over my abdomen and across my back.

But after she left again, the nurses came back by to pamper me some more so it was a little bit better than the first time.

I finally got my release. Woohoo, they only gave me an antibiotic though, so I asked, what about something for the pain. The nurse asked me if I didn't have anything for pain aside from my usual home meds. I was like no, no I don't. She rolled her eyes and said one minute we'll fix this right away. So the doctor finally conceded to a script for the tordol. Me and the nurses had already been joking around about how a disabled crippled person can get their hands on drugs when they can't really leave their house unless someone gives them a ride.

We came up with several ideas, like we do it freaky where I live, I just roll myself out to the corner and I'm like "hey.... psst hey... I'll let you push me around for 5 lo'tabs." I just have to watch that the bloods don't come over the crips territory. They need to put some bandaids on before the come into my hood. I have do have a cat who is great at catching moles, but what no one knows is really the moles have been stuffed with pills by the squirrels so they won't get eaten by the cat. He's a very smart cat, he knows what he needs to do to keep his momma happy. Watching my 2 yr old GB is really a premise I make her work in a secret sweatshop I got set up in the back room cleverly disguised as a "craft room". I force her to make a bunch of things which I then sell on the net and have the funds deposited into a secret bank acct.

We had some fun, and I found out that one of the reasons why the nurses came to pamper me was because they don't like that doctor much either. And for nothing being wrong with me, on the discharge paperwork. I had a UTI, kidney infection, renal insufficenties, apparently pneumonia (don't know if I do have or do not have pneumonia) and dehydration. So yeah, her hamfisting my stomach was going to hurt like a mother I don't care if you're dependent on drugs or not. You don't go around poking infected kidneys.

I just have to remember to call the hospital on Monday in case they don't call me before hand for their "Survey of care". Because that doctor was truly out of line. I mean I have never felt... I don't even have the words for it... I mean, I just... Yes I used to smoke, and I smoked for 15 years, do I miss it, eh a bit. Have a had a cigarette here or there when I'm around a bunch of smokers, yeah I might partake in one, do I have to run out and buy a pack of cigarettes afterwards or even feel the urge to... Nope. I just really don't have much of an addictive personality. I took narcotics for 6 years till I finally got my MS diagnosis, they switched out the narcotics with gabapentin and upped my relaxant to skelaxin. I was perfectly fine with that. No signs or anything of withdrawl from the lortabs. So I mean, to be talked to, and treated that way, to have my husband and mother witness it on top of it, for my husband to be brought to near tears to because of the pain I was in that he couldn't help or do anything for as she continued to just pretty much abuse me. There's just... there's no way to express how I feel.... And then adding insult to injury, not 5 minutes after she left I ended up crapping myself I was in so much pain I didn't even feel anything until there was just a mess. Which was another humiliation all on to itself again, since I was still in so much pain that I really had to call my husband back into the room to help me clean myself up. I figured that would be the lesser evil of asking a stranger to wipe me clean.

I should have gone with option 2 and gone to my health groups hospital. Oh why oh why didn't I go there. Trying to save on an ambulance bill... and not thinking it was too bad a hospital there... bad bad call on my part.

Oh my gosh. What an ordeal.

Maybe I am just way too naïve, but I just can't imagine how a medical professional could or would jump to the conclusion of "drug seeking" without any evidence of such, like blood work that indicated it, track marks that they talk about on TV, or anything to support jumping to such a conclusion so immediately.

I must admit that there probably ARE people like that but I think everyone should be taken seriously and treated. I am sure there must be ways for them to determine the difference between someone truly in need of relief from pain and differentiate them from those that are simply seeking drugs.

I am so angry FOR you. I am ready to go to the hospital administrator on your behalf.

I am not sure what I would do if I were in your shoes. I would probably want to try out some kick boxing on that doc, but like you said, you were in no position to even speak, much less take "corrective" action. That doc and nurse needs an attitude adjustment for sure.

I am so sorry you had such an awful experience and what you wrote is REALLY awful.

I am not sure I could just let it go after being home and better. I would have to do something,.... write a letter, report it to some one, something for sure.

I am sitting here thinking what would I do if I had been treated that way? I know I would be as angry as one can possibly get. I am so angry for you I can't even express it.

So, how are you feeling NOW? I sure hope you are feeling better physically.

I have never given any thought to the topic you have brought to light before reading your post. I realize that "drug addiction" is a big problem from what I hear on the news, but I think such over reaction, thinking EVERYONE that comes through the door is a drug addict seeking meds is not helpful to anyone.

If that doc had been of any quality, they should be able to determine by physical exam if someone is really in pain verses someone that is just seeking drugs.

I am rambling because I am so astounded by what you had to endure.

I'm pretty shocked, too. Was this a county hospital? The Admin needs to know what kind of doctor's they are letting practice in their facility.

What if you had been a relative of someone with some "pull"? Or had media connections? That hospital and ultimately the offending doctor could be in a world of hurt.

You had some witnesses (Mom and DH). I would ruffle some feathers about this. And, I would demand an itemized bill and copies of what exactly they documented regarding your visit. The doctor's notes would be especially interesting.

Starznight, I am appalled with what you had to put up with.

I agree with what Kitty has suggested.

If you want to, I suggest that you get as much documentation about how you were (mis)treated in the hospital as you can (the fact that Mom and DH were witnesses could well help) and lodge an official complaint with the boss of the hospital.

If for no other reason, that might help other patients to avoid the totally unprofessional standard of care that you experienced.

Sometime you might have to tell family members to speak up for you if they see something really off happening..

I had to speak up at an eye dr appt for my mom as the dr was going to insert her special lens without any prep or moisture that is required.. granted he was not familiar with this oversized lens and it was an emergency eye check..
But still he should have asked before just trying to put it in her eye.

Dear Starznight,

It has been several hours since I read your post and I am still reeling about how you were treated.

I sure hope this is an isolated incident and not a prelude of what is down the road for any and all patients that present to a medical professional and facility in pain.

Is everyone going to be assumed to be a drug seeker if they are in pain, dismissed as such, and guilty until somehow the patient can prove their innocence?

There are many people that are on prescribed pain killers (NOT addicts) due to chronic pain as many here are. Does that mean that everyone will be suspected of seeking drugs in the future?

It appears that the attitude being taught in medical professions is that ALL patients lie. Whatever the patient tells you, it is only partially true at best.

For instance, if a doctor asks how many cups of coffee one drinks per day, or how many glasses of wine, .... if the patient says 2, then they assume it is 4 or more, that the patient is answering not truthfully, but in a manner to avoid being chastised.

The patient is now always assumed to be untruthful about everything. This pattern is very disturbing and upsetting and will only interfere with getting proper care.

Personally, I am not going to waste my time going to a doctor seeking medical care and then tie their hands by lying to them. I am going to be direct, full disclosure, good or bad, if I want them to be able to treat me in the proper way for whatever my condition.

If they chastise me about something, I speak up or I change providers. Their job is to provide care, not judge. I won't try to count how many times a provider that was not my normal physician, will attribute my extra pounds to whatever is ailing me. They will totally ignore the fact that it is a chronic condition that began when I was a tiny little thing of normal weight, a super low BMI, very "fit", could take them down easily if needed, but some will say, if you lost weight, you wouldn't have this condition. I want to go ballistic. I politely say that I know that excess pounds are not helping any condition, but it did not cause the condition, nor will the condition disappear if I lost weight. I had it when I weighed about 105 pounds. Then I turn the tables and chastise THEM, saying if you would "fix me" than I could and would be more active and I wouldn't have these extra pounds. (Yes, I am now VERY sedentary, not by choice, and hence, the added pounds.)

This is not a very good example but there are only two things I get chastised for and that is one of them.

Most members here know that I can not drink anything alcoholic at all as it puts me under the table and almost in a coma. My body just can't handle alcohol of any kind. I tried to have a "before dinner" drink at a family gathering for a holiday many years ago and my head almost fell in my plate when we ate. I felt terrible. THAT is why I don't drink.

I am guessing now, after your experience with that doc about drugs, that docs probably don't believe me when I say I NEVER drink anything alcoholic. The assumption is the patient never tells the truth. It doesn't matter what the topic area, they just don't take us seriously when we respond to their questions. It is assumed we are not being honest.

All that ramble to say I am still EXTREMELY upset about how you were treated. Someone needs to put a halt to the attitude in the medical profession that patients are dishonest. Maybe some are,... but that is far different than assuming everyone is dishonest, whether it be about drugs, alcohol, diet, pain, or anything.

Have you ever looked at the scales most doctor offices have for how much you drink? Or smoke? They basically have it as you don't drink at all, or you drink 1-2 drinks a week, some places even only give the option of 0 drinks or 1-2 drinks a day.

I might... might... if I'm having a really good day and push around my pill schedule enough... have a few drinks on Thanksgiving, Christmas and/or New Year's... I won't tell the doctors that I don't drink alcohol, because well... I do. But at the same time even if you averaged the drinks I have on the holiday's there's no way they even come close to any of the offered scales to choose from. So I'm forced to lie from the get go, just filing in the forms... I either lie and say that I don't drink at all, or I have to lie and say that I drink FARRRR more than I do.

Thankfully I quit smoking, as that was another one... you could only list the number of packs you had a day. Sometimes I smoked a quarter of a pack, sometimes I smoked a half a pack, rarely did I ever smoke a whole pack. Averaged all out and I'd say I smoked about 7 cigarettes a day. (Like I said I really don't have an addictive personality, I have a habitual personality that without the addicting 'sensor' or whatever it is in the brain that says YES YES MORE. It's simple to change a habit and quit whatever I need to quit doing.)

Caffeine is another one... I can drink 1000mgs of caffeine one day, loading up on basically nothing but caffeinated drinks to get my fluids in for the day, and the next day I can drink nothing but good ol' water and nothing, except a bit more excitability on my part. Caffeine calms me down, but even then I don't really NEEED to have caffeine. But they don't give you a way to explain it, and then it gets put into their computer files as little check boxes by the nurses that say you either smoke too much, drink too much, or are too caffeinated.

Whatever happened to the old days when the doctors would actually write, or the attending nurse, would type up your personal experience. Your symptoms, how you felt, what was wrong with YOU. Where your symptoms weren't regulated to little check boxes on a computer screen, where you're asked to grade you're pain... 1-10 with a little emoji chart in case you weren't sure. I mean, I'm pretty sure if I'm screaming and crying in pain, that the nurse shouldn't have to ask me what level my pain is... or worse still refer to an emoji chart to see if I match the sad face, proving I'm really in that much pain.

And sure they'll say, "Well the ER's are over run, we simply can't take the time with each and every patient to jot down every little thing, we just need the main points and move on..."

Well aren't the ER's kind of overrunning themselves? I can't count the number of times I have had to make return visits to the ER's because instead of getting better from their prescribed treatment I get worse. And it almost always turns out to be the doctor simply didn't take the time to read all the symptoms and do the proper checks before prescribing a treatment and releasing me. And I'm not talking about things like the common cold or the flu. I'm talking about getting pneumonia, that was probably bronchitis when I went to the see the doctor but he ignored me when I said I didn't want a cough suppressant and gave me one anyways that I thought was an exporrant (sp?). Worse of all it was on a Friday that I started feeling badly, I couldn't get into my doctor and walk-in care was already closed. The ER was the only option for medical treatment. By Sunday I was right back up there with full blown pneumonia.

I mean I grew up in a far larger city than where I'm currently at. Yet our hospital was maybe half the size of the hospital here in town, with probably half the staff as well. Yet still there wasn't a long wait at the ER, you went in, you went to triage when it was your turn, they took your vitals while asking about your symptoms and if it was your first time their they'd ask about your history, or if it had been awhile they'd ask if anything had changed... Someone would bring you a blanket, or an ice pack or whatever you needed to feel comfortable while you waited as the triage nurse finished typing up your symptoms. And then you'd go and wait for a bit. Unless it was a full moon outside you normally got seen with in 30 minutes or so. The doctor would have your medical chart. Basically your history in his/her hand.

All without computers... or rather without what we think of as computers today... those computers basically did a glorified dewey decibel system to locate charts and images. And guess what, if the doctors thought you were scheming for drugs, as they did back then too, they simply picked up the phone and called the surrounding hospitals or pharmacies to see. Back then they could talk to each other... there was none of this HIPPA stuff to prevent them.

So now thanks to computers, and HIPPA reforms, we're all druggies as soon as we walk through the ER doors. I mean we must be, who else but a druggy would be willing to wait 2-4 hours to see a doctor in the middle of the night? And only drug withdrawl causes profuse sweating, pale cold and clammy skin, an accelerated heart rate, low blood pressure, and uneven resperations.... My GOD that sounds just like the symptoms of SHOCK, the kind that comes from being in intense amounts of pain.

I think I have officially crossed the bridge from feeling completely humiliated, to angry now. Thanks guys for helping me get my fight back. I spent most of the day just kind of hiding out in the bedroom. I got up for a few short walks but just wanted to bury my head under the covers. But yeah. Come Monday that hospital is going to get an earful about the doctor. That much is for sure. Too bad it's not a tiny county hospital but a sister hospital to a rather large branch down here. So I might not make much of a splash, but even a single drop of rain will make large ripples.

Dear Starznight,

Please don't get me started on the "electronic health record" or computer charting. My blood pressure can't take it. The disadvantages far outweigh the advantages in my opinion. I think I have ranted many times about it. And let's not even begin to mention how doctors have to fudge in their coding to get claims paid by insurance companies. Our electronic records become nothing more than check boxes of what NEEDS to be there to satisfy others, not a true depiction of our conditions or symptoms.

I totally agree with your post. I am really dating myself here, but I actually remember doctor's making "house" calls. And this was not in some little country town with Dr. Welby, this was in a BIG city.

I watched the downfall of medical care that began with the advent of the HMO many years ago. But I will stop here before I write a book on where and how medical care went sliding down a slippery hill.

Many times we think that there is nothing that can be done to change things and speaking out will get us nowhere, but if everyone would speak up, change will happen. You may not be the first to voice your concerns about your care, nor the last. Who knows how many others were treated in a similar manner by this physician. One thing I can say for sure is that if NO ONE speaks out, there will be no change.

There may have been patients prior to you that have spoken out and YOUR voice may be the tipping point to trigger change. If we all become complacent and say nothing, there is no reason for anything to improve. We MUST speak out.

And if nothing comes of it, at least you tried and had your say. Sometimes that at least will get some of it out of "your" system and put onto them.

Again, I am so truly upset about the care you deserved but did not get.

Wishing you much better care in the future and hoping you have a quick recovery from your recent need for emergency care. Hope your breathing is much better now.

unfortunately i'm not shocked by how you were treated. i'm sorry to say that it's the state of affairs nowadays. i've had some bad hospitalizations too.

even when you bring an advocate, or try to advocate for yourself, things can go wrong. i don't know why staff doesn't listen.

i would make a copy of your letter. send it to the CEO of the hospital and the director of nursing. you can go online to get the name/address. if you're as ****** as i was just reading your letter i'd also send it to your neuro, and the local newspaper.

and yes, please use the other hospital from now on. don't even let the ambulance take you anywhere else. and, suggest the first thing they should check is for a UTI.

i hope you'll be feeling better.

I am sorry the visit to the ER went so poorly.

When you decided to go, what did you expect for the staff to do? How could they have helped you with your scary and real symptoms? Maybe the doctor needed to rule out something other than mega MS.

In terms of needing food to take with a certain drug, why didn't your mother or husband go to a vending machine and buy something to keep you from getting nauseous?

Also, why were you not seen by the neurologist? Did you know a neurologist is required to be on staff at the hospital?

My large spasms go into overdrive when I fall and hurt myself or when trigeminal neurolgia rears its ugly head. ERs can be crazy places on the weekends and it sounds like your hospital was insane. I remember the helpless feeling of the staff nurse as every twenty seconds I had to stop talking, wait out the pain and then begin to converse. Even though everyone knew Demerol would be the solution, it took hours to finally be prescribed.

I needed assistance to use the bathroom and could not have DH help since I was in one of the bed bays. We asked a few times but no one helped. My nurse was so upset to come in and find I had wet the bed. Not at me, at the attendant who never helped.

Again, what were your expectations going in to the ER? What did you specifically want them to do?