You searched for what?

search, emt, google, box


Now that I’ve been writing about the emergency room for almost three months- I get a fair amount of traffic from search engines. I recently reviewed the list of phrases that people have searched for- that brought them to my site. Some are quite interesting to say the least.


  • “medical disimpaction stories”

So basically this person wanted to find stories about constipated people having fecal matter dug out of them…gross- but I can think of situations where this would make sense. Maybe it’s a medical student doing a project. Maybe someone is quite constipated and wants to know what might loom ahead. Who knows? Not me- and I want to keep it that way.

  • “What happens if you get tasered and have a tongue piercing”
  • “What happens if taser barbs are stuck in you”

Clearly, these are people who foresee the possibility of getting tasered as a part of there imminent future. Are they wondering if they should take the tongue piercing out before they get rowdy? What happens if taser barbs are stuck in you- uhhh…they taze the crap out of you and you fall down- wetting yourself.

  • “rubbing my cock against urinals”

Hmmm…this is just disturbing. Why would you ever search for such a thing…and even more disturbing …what comes up when you do? I’m gonna leave that one alone.

  • “Would the emergency room detect ativan being in my system”

It’s quite evident to me- from my time working in the emergency room that some of our patients are quite devious and find ways to get the most out of their “experience.”  This last search term really made me laugh…someone was doing their research.

  • “how can a er patient know for sure they will be leaving with a script for vicodin 2012”

Wow…way to do your homework!  Someone is trying to find a specific problem to list as their chief complaint- so that they’ll be assured a fill of some narcs. Maybe there is a forum for drug seekers- where they share their tips and tricks? They threw 2012 in there…let’s make sure this is a current strategy and not something outdated- right?

It’s an interesting dynamic in the emergency room. I’ll just say- I’m happy, I’m not the one with the prescription pad.

New Life- Update

baby, cute, hoodyA child is born! Hunter Alexander Siler was born on 8/11/12 and weighed in at a healthy (if not chunky) 8 pounds 9 ounces. He was 21″ long- including his enormous “cone-head” (a result of being in the chute for such a long time.) Regardless of personal bias- I’m convinced he’s in the top five- for cutest babies ever born!

The last time I wrote, we were fifty two hours into the labor process. I say “we” but it was more that my wife was exhausted, in pain, and losing her mind more and more each contraction- while I stood by- terrified and helpless. The plan was to go all natural- my wife is pretty tough- but after fifty two hours of prodromal labor (real labor that’s ineffective in dilation) she was starting to lose it and I was ready to medicate her myself. We head off to the hospital and it went steadily down hill, hour by hour.

Within a couple of hours of admission- we go for the epidural. The OB doc says “it will help speed things up,” if she breaks my wifes water for her- the risks she says- “there aren’t really any.” Doc says we’ll probably have the baby around 2am- it’s 8pm. I wake up at 9am, “did I miss the birth?” Nope, no birth- wife- still in labor and exhausted. She’s still contracting and fully effaced but not dilated more than a three. We wait and next comes the Pitocin- it’s necessary to get her dilating- her uterus is tired.

Both of our families arrive at 1pm and are anxiously awaiting the birth. It takes hours more until my wife can start pushing but when the time comes- adrenaline kicks in and she does a great job. Time goes by, and the doc says “do you want to try the vacuum- cause we need to get this baby out.” I ask about the risks- “there aren’t really any.”

By now, my wife’s water has been broken for over 18 hours, she’s got a fever and she’s completely exhausted. The vacuum- basically a suction cup that sticks to the top of the babies head and tries to pull him out- is unsuccessful. Now we’re off for a cesarean section- the absolute last thing that either of us wanted. I’m madder than hell at the way events have unfolded- and angrier that we’re both powerless. My hearts broken- knowing that Heidi won’t get the baby placed on her chest right after birth.

Even after working in the emergency room- I’m about to lose it watching the c-section on my wife. It’s a lot different when it’s someone that you love and care about. I don’t know if it was the stress of it all or what- but my nose started bleeding- mid operation.

Baby comes out with a giant “cone-head.” When I first see my son- I don’t cry- I laugh at the sight of his elongated melon- courtesy of being in the birth canal for so long.

Baby is crying and looks good but get’s taken away to the NICU because they say that he’s having to labor to breathe. When I get there with momma, he looks awesome and his oxygen measurement looks great. Six hours later, baby is back with mom and dad.

As of right now, baby has a bruised head from the vacuum cup but other than that, he’s doing stellar. Peeing and pooping and eating non-stop, he’s an amazing little creature. Despite the way things happened, Heidi and I are very grateful that it’s over and that everyone is healthy. Now for the hard part…

52 Hours In…

pregnant, mom, labor, clock, painI’m not in the emergency room today, instead- my wife and I are in the OB ward. We’re fifty-two hours into a labor process that seems like it may finally come to an end.

My wife went through something called prodromal labor- where you have active- painful contractions but they aren’t effectively dilating the cervix. Two nights ago, my wife Heidi woke up with strong contractions and was unable to sleep at all. All day long, she labored on and off- with painful contractions but in irregular fashion.

After two nights of no sleep and contractions that bring her to tears, we get an appt. and go in and see the doc. Still no dilation. Doc says to go home, take an ativan, get some sleep and hopefully when you wake up- you’ll have the baby. The ativan helps but she only gets a couple hours of sleep and is up every half hour to hit the restroom. 48 hours of painful contractions and I make the executive decision to head to the hospital- let’s get this thing done.

We have to check in through the emergency room and even in the short few minutes that we spend waiting there, we see a chick fly off the handle. Apparently the paramedics had stolen three things of hers- specifically some orange juice and a space blanket. She starts screaming obsceneties at an ER tech and the tech walks out, saying she’s gonna call security. Hilarious irony- the patient screams, “I want a patient advocate bitch!”

Security comes and wheels the patient off to a room to put her in restraints, she’s sitting up on the bed, with a space blanket draped over her- she’s peering out of it like she’s in a tent. Awesome.

We head upstairs and as of right now, we’re about twenty hours in, my wife has an epidural and we’re just waiting to start the final descent. Keep us in your prayers, we’ll be proud parents soon. Stand by for pictures!

It only gets crazier…

crazy woman, flashing, drunk woman, glasses, nutsThe last week or so has been quite “crazy” in the emergency room. For some unknown reason, the ER has been packed with psych patients on a daily basis. This particular day was no different. I’m in the hallway with a guy who checked in saying he’s homicidal (he turned out to be really nice, as well as respectful.)

All of a sudden, I see a gal to my left, standing in front of the nurses station- screaming at the charge nurse. It’s hard to make out what she’s saying because she’s talking to so fast and aggressively- but I do hear her say, “have you ever been strangled?” The charge nurse makes his way around the desk to try to calm the situation.

Next thing I know- the gal yells out- “Do I have to give you my vagina?” No sooner than the absurdity is off her lips, her sweatpants come flying off and she is completely naked from the waste down, screaming at the top of her lungs! This is definitely a first for me- and the guy that I’m taking care of- she’s baring her nether regions in front of the whole emergency room, and she doesn’t seem to care one bit. She’s put on a gurney and wheeled into a private room in order to contain the chaos that she’s creating.

Hours later, I’m in the hallway- watching a couple of mental health patients. One gal has been yelling out obscenities for hours- making just about zero sense. She’s insulted me- “Shutup white boy, I’m mostly italian,” she says. “I have hepatitis C, not AIDS- that was a rumor.”  Every word she utters, she puts her diaphragm behind- to give it that extra ummph. “I’m not a whore Justin,” whoever Justin was…

Later, our strip- teasing, pyscho friend ends up in a bed right next to the woman who’s turned into a disturbing alert system…and the screamer is still going strong. The stripper has clearly had enough of the nonsense and sits up to address her.

“Can you please STOP! I’m trying to eat. When I get worked up, I start to CHOKE! So can you please STOP!”

Wow….I couldn’t believe the reprimand I was hearing and I was waiting for a fight to break out. Instead, the screamer just says, “OK, I’m sorry.” She didn’t totally shutup after that but it was a marked improvement. I was just glad to have a little less chaos.

If you’re crazy enough to rip off your pants in a public place and scream in a grown man’s face-naked from the waste down…you’re probably crazy enough to beat the crap out of a fellow patient that’s annoying you. I’m figuring the screamer realized this as well and heeded the warning. Good times.

Drunk and Dumber

drunk,toilet,meth drunk, sick, illness, passed out, crazyA guy is found sleeping in the bushes. Nothing the medics do works to get any response out of the patient. We run fluids, take bloodwork and find all kinds of stuff in this guys system. The main thing is that his blood alcohol level is over .3 and he has meth on board. He’s out like a light.

All of a sudden I look over from the nurses station- and there he is- standing completely naked at the end of the bed- that’s not good. I go in and get him back in a gown. Five minutes later- the same thing, this time he’s pissed- “What’s this thing in my dick?”

“It’s a catheter, we put it in because you were unconscious and that way you won’t pee all over yourself…”

“Get this thing out of my cock!” this guy screams- thus the vulgarity begins.

The amount of times this guy yelled out different, vile names for his penis should have been a good indicator that this was not going to a pleasant experience for those in charge of his care. The catheter comes out and this dude is cursing up a storm. The catheter is hardly out of his (insert creative name here) and he’s already trying to hit on random girls -passing in the hallway.

The nurse is in the room- he says to her…”You know I’ve got a huge cock?”

I snap right back at him, “No…remember…we put the catheter in…”

He laughs…”F you man….you’re an asshole.”

He really wants to go home and it looks like we’re going discharge him. We get him a shirt because we cut his off when he arrived unconscious. It’s a bright yellow “Safeway” shirt…he is not impressed.

He becomes progressively more and more vulgar and vocal as he waits to be discharged- voicing his discontent for all to hear. The world comes crashing down- the admitting doc decides that he wants the patient to remain in the hospital until he is sober- hours for sure.

The patient has already told me that he’s gonna leave- and get totally drunk and get it on with this tweaker girl he knows. He also tells the admitting doc that if he grew out his sideburns, he could really get some pussy…this guy is a real piece of work- and he’s getting angrier by the minute.

He postures, saying he’s gonna whoop all kinds of ass and that he’s leaving- the decision is made to put him in four-point restraints. I’m assigned the lead which means I’ll be holding his head and have to talk to him the whole time. He goes onto the bed and into restraints without a problem. He does however issue some nice threats.

“Ohh boy…if I catch you in a dark alley- I’ll punch you once in the face and you’ll be knocked out.”

“Yeahhh…I don’t think so….”

“What…you wanna test that? You better hope that I don’t find your address.”

“Yeah…that would be really bad- for you.”

The door was closed to the room and since he was making criminal threats against my safety, I had no problem issuing a few whitty comebacks. The goal, however, is to always have a calm and safe restraint- and to avoid restraints altogether if possible- so we do a quick debrief in the room before we leave.

Before I leave the room he says one more thing…

“I’m sorry for all that stuff I said- I know you’d whoop my ass…”