Emergency Room Experience Essay

In 2014 it was a hot friday summer night, I was at my friends house about to go to see some type of scary movie at Spartan 16. But, then I felt this shooting pain to the right side of my abdomen. At first I did not think anything of the pain. I let the pain drag on for a little while at the movies, but then it felt like someone was stabbing me on the right side of my abdomen and I could not take the pain anymore. I called my dad crying so hard that he could tell something was seriously wrong. He knows I am normally a person to have very high pain tolerance. My dad rushed from whatever he was doing to come pick up from spartan 16. He finally got to me and rushed me to the Pelham Hospital ER.

On a cold winter, rainy night while driving from one duty station to the next was where my vehicle spun around, flipping, tossing and causing my life to unfold and facing a loss like no other. The turmoil of life hit me hard just from this single tragedy alone. My vehicle was totaled, I loss conscious and was rushed to the hospital. Never expected such an incident to occur so abruptly and rob me of all my self-worth. I’ve became someone, someone incapacitated, not able to function like I normally should.

Five years ago, my mother had a brain aneurysm that she shouldn’t have survived. It was traumatic and damaging and to this day she still isn’t right. The point i’m trying to make is that no matter how much you want time to stay the same, it doesn’t. Many mistakes have been made since then, and a lot has been learned. I wouldn’t want to repeat the past if my life depended on it. After my mother had two major heart defects by the time the brain aneurysm occurred I wasn’t ready to give up my mom. We found out just a short time later that it could’ve been prevented if she would’ve made better choices in her life. My life five years ago was undeniably the worst part of my eighteen almost nineteen years on this earth. I stayed in a hospital waiting room for three months just looking for a sign she would wake back up. No one’s ever said why a waiting room is actually called a waiting room. It’s called this because you are waiting on the rest of your life to unfold, waiting to find out if you’ll ever speak to someone again, just waiting on an answer. It is horrifying to walk down a hallway squeezing your brother’s hand so hard he has to tell you to loosen up all to sit in a waiting room and wait on your fait. So my life was not at all glamorous but it got me where I am today, so really I can’t complain. What made me happy after that was watching my mother wake up and finally life started to get back

I am writing to express my keen interest in your level two internship at the Urgent Care in High Desert Regional Health Center. I discovered this site while job shadowing and really liked the friendly, working environment. I believe that my patient assessment skills, dedication, and hard working habits make me an excellent candidate for the position.

A call came at 10 saying that there was no need for an additional doctor yet because of how slow the emergency room was that day. We were eventually told to come in at 12:00 though, but the fact that the amount of time you're made to work directly correlates to how busy the E.R. is was a weird concept to me. The way the emergency room is laid out is with a central station of desks with a wall separating the two haves. Surrounding the desks are the patients room. As a doctor, you simply wait until a patient is set up in a room by nurses and then claim the patient in the system. Each patient has a description of their pain complaint in the computer along with a ranked emergency level. After claiming the patient, the doctor go to see them in there room. When a Doctor visits a patients room, they do exactly what one thinks they would do— they ask questions. It was interesting to note how differently my father and Dr. James went about these interviews. Dr. James was more of a talking, “why don't you tell me what the issue is” kind of doctor. She let the patients talk but gently guided the conversations. She was very nice and would explain exactly what she meant in basic, social terms. On the other hand, my father was computer-like efficient in his investigation. He would always ask the same set of specific questions in each case no matter what the problem was. He would always be the one in charge and almost a bit callus in his method. That’s not to say

Over the past four years I have seen more doctors than an average person would see in their lifetime. From endocrinologists to neurosurgeons, I have tirelessly sought medical help to overcome multiple traumatic brain injuries I incurred as an early teen. Prior to these head injuries I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to do with my life or what my future would encompass. The outlook I had on life prior to my head injuries has drastically changed through the course of my recovery. Although my road to recovery has been filled with hardships, disappointments, and pain, I have found a new direction filled with opportunity to advocate on behalf of others.

It is a warm summer evening at Grady Hospital. It is my first day as an emergency room volunteer. I’m nervous and eager, hoping to see something exciting. However, it is surreally quiet. Suddenly, there is word of an ambulance en route. Minutes later the paramedics burst into the trauma slot pushing a man on a stretcher. His head and face are covered with gauze that is soaked through with dark blood. It is a flurry of well-orchestrated movement as the attendings and residents start to resuscitate him. They pull back the bandages to reveal a deep gash that is bleeding profusely. With much effort his vital signs are stabilized and he begins to regain consciousness. Later, after the excitement had passed, I learned what brought him here. He is diabetic and couldn’t afford to properly manage his condition. He had fainted due to hypoglycemia and hit his head. He had almost lost his life because of the unfortunate financial realities of modern healthcare. In that moment, I came to appreciate the very real cost of disease and the incredible role physicians have in ameliorating it. This formative experience was the beginning of my path to medicine.

I feel that I've had an opportunity to be a student of life. I've been lucky enough to hear stories from my patients about their trials and triumphs, their setbacks and how they've overcome them, and how to have a remarkable outlook on life in the bleakest of moments. I’ve dealt with patients who have stabbed themselves in an attempt to commit suicide. I’ve been in scenarios where my squad had been hit by indirect enemy fire and I was the only medic to deal with the situation. I’ve responded intelligently in an ambulance to emergencies numerous times. These experiences have molded me into the man I am today. I’m empathetic and nonjudgmental. I challenge myself to look at the

Young persons living in Ohio have a higher than average rate of non-medical use of pain relievers. In a study conducted by the National Survey on Drug Use and Health between 2009 and 2010, Ohio residents 12-17 years old were on the top ten list for past-year non-medical use of pain relieving drugs. On the other hand, residents of Ohio reported in the same survey a lower than average rate of past-month illicit drug use. During 2009-2010, approximately 7.87% of Ohio residents indicated past-month use of illegal drugs; at the time the national average was 8.82%. As well, Ohio drug rehab enrollments during this time period were primarily for marijuana addiction. This was followed by heroin, other opiates (prescription drugs) and cocaine/crack cocaine.

Finally, the pain became too much, I felt like I was going to pass out. I then slowly raised my hand and told Mr. Reynoso that I felt really sick suddenly and had to go home. I used a phone from the office to tell my parents my dilemma and asked to bring me home. They were reluctant at first, but after some convincing, my

Although, i went to the hospital. I had to go under the x-ray that i had to go through again because i kept moving. My mother was very angry at me for not telling her. She was just glad that i was okay. And to tell if something bad happen

I then said, “I’m not sure what is wrong but I’ve been having a little pain and I can’t keep any food down.” The doctor then checked me out, took tests, and then pretty much told me that I was a crazy old lady who was imagining things. Even though that doctor didn’t believe me, I knew something was wrong. I went and tried to get other doctors to believe me, but like my doctor, no one did. After a couple days of pain and no one believing me, I then went to my daughters house and all of us headed to the Jay County Hospital.

I was sore everywhere. I could barely move. The doctor runs inside moving his fingers in front of my face. I follow them then blink a couple of times.

Four years ago, my entire life changed without warning. I was in a bike accident that ended in a severe traumatic brain injury (TBI), which left me unconscious for a few hours and caused several seizures. This injury was enough to make my doctors unsure as to if I would be able to walk, talk, and function correctly. Not only did this affect my life at the time, but it still affects my life every day, and may affect me for many more years. Most people do not understand the effects of brain injuries, even if they know someone who is afflicted, and may even assume that after that person is healed that they will return to normal. This single day in my life, one that I will never fully remember, is also one that I will never forget.

' My doctor had medical professional stick his entire arm whole me and detach as well as separate with his hand, scraping it scuffing from my uterus with womb fingernails. Just how revolting and also