Yesterday I ended up going to the emergency room. The ER was not my first choice. After a long night of coughing and wheezing I called my primary care physician's office and went in for a Saturday morning clinic appointment. This appointment lasted two hours and the primary care physician determined that I needed elevated care from a hospital facility.
This is where things got frustrating. Upon checking into triage, the admitting nurse verified my medications. "Are you still taking Ativan?"
"Yes." I replied "On an as needed basis"
"For anxiety?"
"For anxiety."
In that conversation, I knew that my shortness of breath was going to be blamed on anxiety, not the chest cold I was severely suffering from and needed treatment for at the hospital.
As I followed my attending nurse into the exam room, I explained to her that I am trying to find a balance with my breathing because it hurts to breathe. Every breath causes pain and deep breaths cause coughing spells which are extremely painful, so to prevent myself from going into a coughing spell, I am breathing faster. Nurse b**ch didn't buy it. I had already been flagged as someone with a "mental condition" because of the medication I take occasionally for anxiety. The nurse had already decided, before I had even changed into my hospital gown, that this was nothing more than an anxiety attack, because nurses have the credentials to make those kinds of determinations. I'm not coming after nurses in general. This particular nurse was rude and started judging me the moment she read in my file that I am on ativan for anxiety on an as needed basis.
I wish I could say this was an isolated incident. I wish I could say that something like this has never happened to me before. Unfortunately, I cannot. Time and time again, I have been treated as less than human in health care facilities because I have anxiety. In this circumstance, I am very happy to report that the actual ER doctor was very kind and did not treat me poorly. This has not always been the case for me as I have sought medical attention for physical illness matters.
The nurse asked me straight up "Have you had anxiety attacks before? Could you be having an anxiety attack now? Is that why you are breathing so fast? You're hyperventilating you know." I responded with "Yes. I have had anxiety attacks before. Do I have anxiety now? Yes. I have anxiety now because of the amount of pain my chest is in from this cough and cold. I have anxiety that I will go into another coughing spell and it will hurt terribly. I am anxious about the pain I am in, nothing more. Balancing breathing and comfort is extremely difficult right now." She didn't respond to my answer.
She then grabbed my right arm and started searching for a vein. "I'm low on fluids." I told her. "My veins are difficult to get sometimes." She continued to search for a vein. She stuck me once in my inner elbow joint and lost the vein. The next stick was not nearly as friendly as she turned my arm and stuck me very near my actual elbow bone and blew out vein number two. She then had the nerve to tell me that it was my fault she lost the vein because "you clammed up. If you clam up it makes the veins close. You are breathing too fast. You need to slow your breathing down. You are breathing twice as fast as you need to!" Mind you she didn't say this until she went after stick number three on the opposite side of my elbow joint near the other side of my actual elbow bone. Vein number three blown. At that point, she got up and left the exam room in frustration. My arm bloodied and throbbing rested at my side.
The ER doctor came in and introduced himself. He was kind and also asked me about the ativan medication. He asked me about my cold symptoms as well. He then asked me if I thought my shortness of breath could be related at all to anxiety. I replied with confidence, "absolutely. It absolutely could and probably is related to anxiety. I am anxious about the pain I am in right now. My chest hurts so very much right now and I just need the pain to stop." The doctor then told me that even though I am young, he wanted to be sure my heart is okay and so he ordered an ekg. He also told me that he believes I probably have costochondritis. "What is that?" I asked in surprise. He chuckled a little and said "Well I'll tell you. It is inflammation of the chest wall and chest joints between the sternum and rib cage. It can be extremely painful. Painful, but not dangerous." He told me he recognized how painful chest inflammation is and he would have the nurse give me morphine and torodol to help manage the pain. Finally, my actual physical pain was being validated. In conjunction with the costochondritis diagnosis, I was also diagnosed with bronchitis. A purely physical condition by way of a viral infection.
Because Miss Happy Nurse couldn't get a vein on me, she had the pleasure of injecting these two pain medications into my shoulders. One in the right arm, one in the left. As if the amount of pain I had been dealing with wasn't enough, these injections sent me over the top into tears. This nurse had the audacity to say out loud: "These injections don't hurt. Patients don't complain of these hurting." as tears rolled from the corners of my eyes into my ears. If this nurse would have actually done her job right and gotten an iv in my arm, these shoulder injections would not have been necessary.
Men and women flagged with mental conditions are treated differently in emergency rooms than people who are not flagged. Sadly, I know this from personal experience. I have had multiple instances of being treated this way and actually much worse than this particular experience simply because I have anxiety.
Yup. I have anxiety. I have survived cancer. I have survived infertility. I live with a bipolar husband. I live with a teenager. I have a high-stress job. I take care of my elderly father. I worry about my children on a daily basis. Yup. I have anxiety. Yup. I am strong enough to admit that I need a pharmaceutical medication to help me through my difficult moments. Yup. Life is sometimes too difficult to tolerate and my mind and body revolt in protest against everything I have to deal with. Yup. I take ativan to help me through life.
No. This does not give you permission to treat me as something less than human. No. This does not give you the right to judge me. No. This does not mean you are better than me. No. You are not stronger than me. No. You have not been through the hell and fire and brimstone that I have been through. No. You do not have permission to determine that ativan makes me a weak, unstable individual undeserving of medical treatment that ought to be afforded to all men and women.
As recourse for what happened to me, I will be filing a formal complaint against this nurse with the facility in which I was seen. During normal business hours, I will find out the proper way to file this complaint. I knew in the moments that I was being treated, my treatment would have become worse, not better, had I voiced my frustrations. In addition, the doctor was being very accommodating and understanding with my needs and medical condition and I was receiving the treatment I needed to manage my physical illness.
Below, I have posted the pictures of my bruised arm. Some people do not do well with these types of images so I wanted to give you a forewarning first. Below are the results of a frustrated nurse convinced that a patient was being seen at a medical facility for something made up in her mind. Thank heavens this nurse did not have the power to diagnose me. Thank heavens I had a doctor with enough wisdom to diagnose me as I am, a human being, who has been afflicted with bronchitis and costochondritis which is treatable, not dangerous, painful, yet manageable.
I submit this basic plea: If someone you know or love struggles with mental conditions please be kind and tolerant toward them. Please do not prematurely judge them. Please try stepping in their shoes before jumping to conclusions. We are all on this earth foraging our way through this life, doing the best we can all while needing the comfort and understanding of others as we all reach for the better things of life.
~Elizabeth~
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Yes, this post addresses a very common problem. I have heard similar stories from others who have received unsympathetic care when seeking medical attention because they have certain diagnoses that get the blanket credit for all health ailments. I'm so sorry you went through this. Those are quite the bruises. Thank you for raising awareness on this issue!
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