Visited the ER with serious kidney stone pain. There were maybe 2 or 3 other people in the ER. After checking in with the front desk, I was asked to wait. They never even took my vitals. Just spoke to me through the window. This went on for too long and I could not bear the pain, so my wife and I left and went all the way to Lahey. Lahey ER was packed with people, standing room only, but they at least had a nurse consult with me. By then the pain was subsiding and we decided to go back home.
I woke that night with severe pain again and grunted to my wife to take me back to the ER. Since we live one mile from Emerson, we went back there. The mile seemed to take an eternity with the pain I was now feeling.
Before making it to the reception desk of the ER, I threw up 3 times from pain into the trash can in the hallway. And this time, there was no one in the ER but me. But even still, there seemed to be a long period while a lady took care of administrative paperwork, prior to taking me back into the ER. The pain was getting so bad, I made the conscious decision to lay on the floor of the waiting area, so as to emphasize my condition. Note that I am not one to lay on a public floor, but something made me do that.
Finally, I'm back on a bed being seen. And that's when the real fun started. A nurse assessed me and review my medical history. I presented (while gasping and moaning) that I had been seen in Laconia and had a CAT scan that was positive for kidney stones. She then proceeded to insert an IV to give me fluids. By this time, I am starting to yell out in pain.
By the way, it turns out from a later diagnosis by Dr. Steele at Brigham that I had kidney stone lodged at my UBJ (ureteral-bladder junction) and that the nerves there register the pain as originating in the testicles. This feels like someone has one of your testicles in a pair of pliers, squeezing steadily, but with occasional bursts of mega-pain. If you are man, you might be able to understand this excruciating and inescapable condition.
Back to the ER. After administering fluids, the nurse started me on a low power pain killer like codeine. I was yelling constantly by this time. The codeine (or whatever) had *no* effect. I begged her for something else and when she left the room for minutes at a time, I would call out to her. I was writing in pain so severely, that I was sweating all down my back and my hair was wet from sweat. This hellish experience was allowed to go on for **45 MINUTES**. That's almost an hour of having one of my balls in a vise. During this time, the nurse would leave and shut the door behind. I suppose the yelling was starting to get to them. She would return occasionally to tell me to calm down and assured me that I was not going to die, that it was not fatal, that it was *just* pain. This was little comfort. I never thought I was going to die!
Finally, after almost an hour, they gave me something that actually stopped the pain. It also stopped me from being awake, and I slept there for a few hours (my poor wife by my side) When I awoke the pain was gone, but I was exhausted. They wanted to discharge me, but I was afraid to leave, lest I have another spell. After much coaxing and urging, I left, and have not had an experience that bad again.
Note that I have had 2 ACL tears playing sports, a shattered hip in a car accident, I've had stitches on 2 dozen occasions, and 2nd degree burns. But nothing has come close to this experience.
My complaint is this: Why did they make me wait so long for relief of pain? It was torture. I have bad feelings when I am near that hospital now. Not because of the pain, but because of the treatment.
My recommendation is to go somewhere else for ER care. Anywhere else. Emerson is not a good place and you may regret it. read more