Isopropyl Alcohol with Lime

Sitting in the waiting room of the emergency department at Toronto General is a lot getting your license renewed at the DMV.  You sign-in, take a number from the red machine and wait for your turn with people who smell like stale smoke and gym socks.  My number flashed on the screen above the registration window and I shuffled up.

I’d gone almost 3 weeks on my “sprained” foot hobbling around in a flip flop and loosely tied Nike's.  Today I’d powered through 6 hours of meetings while visiting my client. One physician had taken pity on me and suggested I head down to E-merg.  I was so excited to be out of the grime and slime of the waiting area I even smiled at the clerk when she told me I was “lucky” to be going straight back to “Fast Track”.  Once Security (read as guy wearing a gun behind bullet proof glass) opened the doors to let me in, I just needed to follow the blue arrows back to the pink room marked “Fast Track” and wait for my name to be called.  Simple.

Security dude opened the doors and I shuffled in making sure I stopped at the Purell station. I had no idea what was  wrong with the guy sitting next to me in the waiting room, but if it was possible to prevent bacterial meningitis with hand sanitizer, I’d win that battle before going another 4 feet.

I rounded the corner to enter the epicenter of Toronto General Emergency Department. Pausing to search for the blue arrows, I wished Jameson was with me.  And that I’d been outfitted in a HazMat suit.  I Purell’d again and saw the arrows on the floor to the left on the main nurse’s station. I could also see a Karen Carpenter look-alike on a gurney in the hallway beside the arrows with arms flying around and blood smeared on her face and gown. I’d just entered the Twilight Zone.

Shuffling along past Karen, I followed the arrows to the “Fast Track” section. This room was filled with the same yahoo’s I’d just been surrounded by in the main waiting area. Fast Track my ass!  Purell.

Mental checklist: before going to emergency again, review signs of congestive heart failure for faster service.

I made it to the back of the room, the only available seat, and sat down.  Checking out my surroundings and doing a mental inventory of the grossness in the 10 by 12 I realized I should have taken a Xanax.  Rather than fester on what I could be coming down with by breathing the same air, I took my Kindle out of my purse and started reading my latest Laurie London.

2 minutes passed before noticing Dorothy’s mom from ‘The Golden Girls’ was reading over my shoulder.  She smelled like vomit. Turning my head to the right, I saw puke on her shirt and in her hair. She smiled. How do you smile while wearing vomit like a fashion accessory? I was so worried about offending the ED physician I’d changed my socks before coming.  I closed the cover of my Kindle and shifted in my seat to turn away from Sophia Petrillo. Bad move. Neighbor to my left was oblivious to the green snot sliding down the front of his face. I immediately realized time spent in this “Fast Track” room meant I’d have to burn my clothes.

After suffering through 3 odoriferous hours, a man screaming about a stolen cat, some hipster chiclet crying that she needed a wheel chair because she was too weak from the X-rays, a dude in green boxers & handcuffs (which he boasted were recreational) and at least 5 cases of the stomach flu, my name was called and I headed back to a room.  Purell.

A tech had me walk to X-ray and then immediately told me my foot was broken. He then explained he was going on break as soon as I was done, but he just wanted me to know in case somebody “loses” me. WHAT? Are people lost in the ED often at Toronto General? Dammit. I needed to leave so I could throwback a chardonnay and a Xannie.  I walked back to my room alone because X-ray tech guy had someone bringing him a Subway.  Purell.  After plopping my ass up on the gurney and elevating my foot, I Skpyed Jameson.

 ItsKelz:            ja, broken foot, xray tech = asshat with sub

Ja.Me.Son:       WIFE! What? Your foot is broken? I told you not to walk on it. Didn’t I tell you not to walk on it? Asshat???? Explain.

ItsKelz:             waiting 4 doc, i’m on my  fon, xray dude chose jared n sub sandies instead of helping me

Ja.Me.Son:        ASSHAT! Call me after you speak to the MD.

The physician made it in to see me, politely explained that I had a fractured 5^th metatarsal and slapped a temporary cast on my foot while schooling me on the importance of using crutches and not putting any weight on my foot until I’d  seen an Ortho. I grabbed my crutches, Purell'd and raced for the EXIT sign.  Karen Carpenter was still on the gurney - only now the blood was dry. Eww.  I called Jameson while riding in the cab back to the Marriott and, after explaining in finite detail what was done and said, I asked if he understood the patient population of an urban emergency department. He did. Hmm… can you install a DeCon shower in a home?