Waiting for a Healing

I knew we were in trouble when she walked into the room and said, “Hello, my name is Peggy.” Our Sunday afternoon turned into a stop in hell.

Amy and I traveled to Athens, TN to eat lunch with Dallas. He wanted to spend time with his mother on her birthday weekend. Our visit with him at the Cracker Barrel followed a good morning at church and then a relaxing drive.

On the way home, Amy called the Summit Medical Walk-in Clinic in Farragut to set an appointment. Her left wrist was puffy and ached so much that she woke up from the pain during the night. I practiced medicine without a license and diagnosed the problem as being tendonitis, but she wanted to get a second opinion.

The employee who answered the phone set up an appointment at 3:45. That gave us plenty of time to drive back to Knoxville. In fact, we got there early (big surprise with me being involved) and walked through the door a half hour early. The place was crowded, but the attendant told Amy that individuals with appointments would be seen first. Not a single seat was empty, so I stood for awhile.

Most of the folks walking in snorted and coughed and wheezed. Whether they suffered from colds or allergies wasn’t clear. However, I wanted to hurry up and get out of the place before someone hacked on me a million germs attacked and laid me low. What I can’t figure out is why folks will lie around sick for a couple of days and finally look for help when the weekend comes.

One woman rose from her chair and asked the receptionist behind the glass how much longer would she have to wait? Her voice carried throughout the waiting area as she announced she was experiencing heart palpitations. DUH! If my heart is fluttering or beating so fast that it feels as if it might jump out of my chest, I’m not wasting time in a clinic. I’m headed for the closest ER.

A young mother entered and carried a little boy who appeared to be around five years old. She filled out papers and asked how long it would be. When the worker couldn’t give her a definitive answer, she snapped, “My son has had a fever of 104 for five hours.” It’s been a long time since our kids were little, but I’m sure I would have had either child somewhere much earlier if one had come down with a fever that high.

We sat, patiently I might add, as our 3:45 appointment melted into 4:00 and then 4:45. Finally, Amy was called back a few minutes before 5:00. After the nurse took vitals, the physician assistant entered and introduced herself as “Peggy.” She advised Amy to have an x-ray and said she’d have the nurse take one. More than fifteen minutes later, my wife asked the nurse about it, to which she responded that Peggy hadn’t told her. In all, we waited for forty-five minutes to have an x-ray taken, developed, and analyzed.

I admit by then I was HOT. We’d spent the entire afternoon in a crowded waiting area with no lights and no ventilation. For a brief time the receptionist opened the door that led to the rooms so that cooler air could circulate, but that didn’t last long.

A weekend clinic should be adequately staffed. Having someone to check patients in, one nurse, and a physician’s assistant seems to be running a facility on the cheap. Come on! At least a couple of nurses and examiners comprise and adequate minimum staff for serving people. It looks like Summit Medical is cutting costs without regard to service to patients.

When Amy and I finally escaped, it was almost 6:00, and we still had to find an open pharmacy to fill prescriptions. Once safely at home, we both reached for a soothing refreshment. Sipping and decompressing, we came to the decision that the next time we had a situation that required medical attention, a visit to the emergency room is our preference. The wait won’t be any longer than the one we had Sunday, and we’ll even get to see a physician.