The Mountain View emergency room was busy. At the end of the hall a young woman sat on a gurney and a nursing assistant sat with her. She was on suicide watch and had been there 6 days waiting for a bed at Las Vegas Mental Health. All the rooms were full and there were people in the hallway… people with broken legs, feverish babies and seniors with chest pain. I was there with my daughter Lori, who was suffering headache and stiff neck. We were not in the hallway but in a bay, surrounded by a red and gray striped curtain. Lori was sleeping after an injection of morphine. I sat wedged between a metal tray and a crash cart, reading and waiting for the doctor to come back and say something. Anything. The metal tray next to me began to rattle and I felt the side of it hit my leg. I looked up. The lead wires from the next bed were coming over the curtain and tipping the tray. Suddenly drops of blood spattered the floor near my feet. I heard people running. The curtain covering the next bad was shoved back. I could clearly see what was happening.
“Get back in that bed Steve!” yelled the young doctor. “Look what you’ve done! You ripped your IV out and there’s blood everywhere! You’re pulling the curtains down and you’re going to hurt this woman. I don’t blame her if she sues you.” I did not want to be hurt but I had no plans to sue Steve.
“I just spent a week… seven days, in Summerlin Hospital drying out!” Steve yelled.
“And you left there and on your way home you got drunk and ended up on the floor in CVS. The ambulance brought you in. You are detoxing all over again, your cardiac enzymes are not good and I expect you to seize any moment. Now get back in that bed.”
“I am sick of being in the hospital. I just spent a week in Summerlin. I want to get out of here.”
“Look Boss, keep it up and you’re going to see a nice doc become a mean doc. Get back in that bed!”
By now, two security guards and a nurse had joined the doctor and they were all issuing orders.
“Get back in that bed now!” said one security guard.
“Here, give me your arm,” said the nurse. “You’ve got blood everywhere and your arm is swelling. Give it to me!”
And Steve kept repeating, “I just spent a week in Summerlin. I am tired of hospitals. I want to get out of here.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” yelled the doctor. “I am serious. Get back in that bed.”
“I know my rights! I want out of here! I just spent a week in Summerlin! You can’t keep me if I want to go! Give me the @*$# paper and let me sign it and get the @*$# out of here!”
The doctor looked like Mountain View’s version of “McDreamy”; young with curly, dark hair, blue eyes, navy blue scrubs and matching sneakers. Steve was older, gray and thin with cavernous eyes, dressed in a hospital gown with blood dripping from his right arm. It was clear to me who was going to win this argument.
“Don’t make me restrain you Boss!” said the doctor.
“Just give me the paper and let me out of this @*$# place! You can’t keep me if I want to leave.”
About that time a nurse hit Steve with an injection in his arm.
“What the…? What was that? Why did you do that?”
“The doctor ordered it to help you calm down.”
“I don’t want to calm down. I want to get the hell out of here. I just spent a week in Summerlin. I need to go home. You can’t keep me here. I know my rights.”
Steve was right, of course. They couldn’t keep him there legally and they were keeping him against his will. Still it was 11 pm and 104 outside. He was drunk and the doctor felt he needed to be somewhere safe.
“Hey! What was that you gave me?”
“Ativan. Relax.” The nurse helped Steve back onto the gurney and pulled the curtain back around him.
“I guess I don’t have any @*$# choice.”
I watched the housekeeper clean the blood from the floor, listened as Steve’s voice became softer and was finally quiet and I thought about his rights and how they had been violated. Steve was not incompetent but he was drunk. And it was a hot night. And it was dangerous for him to be wandering around out there but still… he really wanted to leave the hospital.
1 comment:
I wish I could have the detail recall that you have...interesting story. My opinion is that they did the right thing, even though it seems his rights were violated. Sometimes, people who are under the influence can be a danger to others and therefore come under the jurisdiction of the medical or psychological professions. I hope he has gotten help by now...
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