Based on my record of being the biggest klutz ever, some
people think that I should exist in a bubble and be let out for meals, but
without utensils. David wanted new
sharp knives for us to have in the apartment. Monday, I found a great set of knives. The very sharp knives I purchased came with covers – because
they were very very sharp. (You
know what’s coming – and I should have realized there was a potential for
conflict when I saw the brand name: “The
Sharper Image”). At about 5:30, I
decided to put them away, carefully, because hey, they were so very sharp. There were three in a package. I covered the first two small ones
without any problem. This, unfortunately was not the case with the third, a
larger knife, perfect for attacking a full side of beef. It sliced right through my finger. (the Gross part.)
We first went to the Walk In Emergency room at Weill Cornell
hospital – a mere five minute cab ride, once you actually find a cab at rush
hour. To say it was busy does not
even begin to describe the number of people who needed to be seen. Wall to wall packed. I stood at check-in with my finger in
the air, (applying pressure and
above the heart), gushing blood.
The lovely woman at the desk had obviously seen much worse, probably
everyday. When we finally located
empty seats and they gave me a hospital band, it said that my triage level was
4. In other words, there would be
no rush to see me. When I asked if
she thought I would be there all night.
She said “I’m afraid so.”
But David was not in a “wait all night surrounded by sick people”
mood. He, still having his wits
about him, and no apparent serious bodily injuries, started to locate private
urgent care facilities on his fone.
The hospital people said the wait would probably as long at a private
place, but he was not to be deterred.
Oh, and the Urgent Care people said the wait probably wouldn’t be more
than 10 minutes. (Maybe they were
lying.) It didn’t matter. Into a
cab we jumped, made our way the 20 blocks to 86th street. We walked
in the door, filled out some forms, gave them the insurance cards and we walked
right into an examination room. It
was 6:30. By 6:45, Dr. Oran had cleaned, anesthetized, and stitched my no
longer bleeding injury, in this
clean, bright, perfectly lovely urgent care facility. (Note to traditional drearily-lit houses of medicines: consider upgrading your lighting a couple of f/stops and
your clients won’t feel like they are in a holding room in rural Albania.)
On the way home, since we didn’t have to spend all night in
an emergency room, we instead spent the evening eating guacamole and drinking a
hefty delicious margarita (aka a “local anesthetic”) in a popular neighborhood
Mexican restaurant.
This morning, as instructed, I went back to have the cut
examined. This took ten
minutes. I was officially on the
road to recovery. Since it was
still early, I told the Dr. I thought I had broken my toe. Without making any excuses about how
that’s not what I came for, he said, “let’s take a look.” It took five minutes for an X-ray, five minutes to
read the X-ray, and another five minutes to explain that I had broken not one,
but two toes (adjacent.) One,
about two weeks ago and the other…. Who knows? It took another five minutes to send me across the street to
see Dr. Teitlebaum, an exceptional podiatrist. His office wasn’t open but he looked at the X-ray and
treated me without any fuss.
All I could think about was what a good experience I had
with Urgent Care and their referral to a doctor who could, without any
formality, help me immediately.
It may be that I was lucky and this was not a typical Urgent
Care experience. But I don’t think
so. These people are working in a
small growing business, that provide services (similar to an emergency room) to
people who have almost any kind of medical insurance, but quickly,
professionally and without any bureaucratic nonsense. And none of the 1000-yard stares that the “help desks” in
ER’s usually specialize in.
Anyway, I have no idea exactly what ObamaCare means – I didn’t read the
2000 pages. But I do know that the
medical care I received over the last few days is what medical care, especially
urgent care, should be. Dr.
Teitlebaum assured me I would be just fine – if I was just a little less
accident prone. Maybe I do need
that bubble. We’re just sayin’…
Iris.
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