The eyes have it...

...a bad case of hospitalitis

I didn't intend to make a scene. I was just so pissed off, but it did get the attention of the three nurses and the mother of them all: Donna.

Nurse Donna took one look at this blubbering baby and assumed control of the situation. She compiled my paperwork, barked orders to the other nurses and took me back to the opthamalogy area I was meant to be at at 10. By this time all the seats were taken, but I was too pissed off to want to sit nicely. I wanted to stand and cross my arms and tap my foot. You know, be a bitch.

Donna: "Hmm, all the seats are taken..."

Me: (still blubbering) "I don't care. I can stand."

Donna: (to me) "No, have a seat." (barking to everyone else) "Anyone who's not a patient can stand over here. We have patients that need to sit."

Immediately 10 spots were vacated and I sat down. Donna leaves. Another nurse comes by and tells the standers to sit.

Person: "That nurse told us the seats are for patients only."

New Nurse: "Donna just... I'm just making sure everybody goes in the order they came here in." (glances at me)

Thanks, new nurse. Now I was even angrier. I had a flipping appointment! I was here first! Bitch bitch bitch!

No sooner had she said that, then the opthamalogist summoned me in. And I kinda felt like a jerk. There were people here wearing patches and dark glasses, and I was going ahead of them. I wasn't supposed to be here.

As the doctor looked me over, she asked why I was upset. And I told the story again. She explained that the opthamalogy unit is usually just for the folks staying in the hospital or the ones who've had eye surgery. Most cases go to the eye clinic, but that the referring doctors never seem to understand that the clinic is closed on the weekends. So she gets all their patients, making Saturday mornings insanely busy. To top it off, Donna and the gaggle of nurses at the Unit 22 desk kept mixing up the order of patients.

Dr. Cool Chick: "How old are you?"

Me: (snifling) "Twenty-five."

Wow, nothing grounds you like saying your age while you're sobbing like a useless baby. Apparently she needed to know my age to make sure I'm not a candidate for juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. She looked into my eyes, then let one of her interns take a look. The intern mumbled something about seeing "cells." Eew. In both eyes, not just the owie one. Eew.

Then I got the dilating drops so she could check the back of my eyes in about 20 minutes. So to kill time, I was going to get some further tests done. Dr. Cool Chick explained that it looks like I've got iritis, think arthritis in your eyeball (watch out, proofers! This is why your benefits should cover vision!). And since I hadn't had any eye surgery or taken a baseball bat to the face, they have to assume I have some underlying medical problem trying to make itself known through my eyeball.

Back to the desk at Unit 22, my pupils as big as black saucers and getting bigger every minute, I reunited with Elle and Donna. Donna orders one of her nurses to take me to get an x-ray (to check whether or not my spine has fused together) and then I'm supposed to get blood tests. From Unit 22 down to the x-ray unit, the burdoned nurse explains that it's not in her job description to lead people around, but what Donna says is law and she doesn't want to cause trouble.

At the x-ray unit, there is no one around and the lights are off. Figures.

Me: "Figures."

Burdoned Nurse: "This is weird. There should be someone here."

Me: "This has been my whole day."

So the friggin' nurse has to ask for directions! Ha! Take that, bee-yatch! Then it's back to the emergency area to get x-rayed in there. Four people lying in pain on hospital beds go first. Thankfully. I didn't want to cut ahead of any emergency cases. So Elle and I waited for about 30 to 40 minutes and then I got to have my first x-ray since I was in junior high. Of course, I hadn't planned to get x-rayed this day and wore my comfy roadtrip pants with the metal buttons on the waist line. So adding insult to injury, I had to drop my pants for the x-ray ladies.

After that, it was a breeze. We skipped the return to Unit 22 and found the lab test area. They took six vials of blood out of me!

Blood Doc: "This is nothing. I once took 30 vials out of one patient."

Me: "I bet you like that story, because you can tell it to people like me who think they're getting a lot out of them."

Now the blood is done and we return to Unit 22. Donna welcomes us back, double checks with us both that I did all the tests. We tell her yes and then I'm back to see Dr. Cool Chick. She checks my eyes and confirms that it is iritis and gives me a prescription of steroid eye drops and eye ointment for nighttime. Just like I wanted in the first place!

Before we're free, I have to face one more test: the tuberculosis skin test. Donna sits me down and says straight up that it's going to hurt, don't touch it, come back in 48 hours. Don't touch it. I can't even put a Band-Aid over it 'cause it could screw with the test results. Don't touch it. But I'm really afraid I'll forget it's there and I'll scratch it by accident. Don't touch it.

It pinches a bit less than the blood test, so I think Donna was trying to make it seem worse than it really was. Damn reverse psychology!

A pat on the back and many thank yous later, Elle and I run away from the hospital. But I will be forced to return Monday to check my TB test and see another eye specialist for the next-to-final word. Picking up my much-needed eye drops, Timbits and my worried-sick boyfriend, we head for Calgary.

Now we're on easy street... Or are we?