On two different occasions to the ER in my area hospital, Etobicoke General, the first was for concussion (highway accident: broadsided by drunk driver) I was transported by ambulance screaming and puking... and was whisked into a private room, seen to immediately, and shot full of painkiller in one hip, and something to kill the vomiting in the other (dramamine, I think, not a medfag) and the other trip - also by ambulance - a dislocated shoulder. The EMP found me a wheelchair to sit in because there were NO seats in emergency. As I sat there on the bottom of the list, cradling my arm, for upwards of four-five hours it was getting urgent that I had to pee, but was reluctant to leave my seat to do so because it would be excruciating to wrangle my pants down and up again, AND my seat would be gone when I got back. In those days, going to the ER was a family affair, especially for New Canadians; when one gets the sniffles, they all go. Children were running around unchecked and screaming, the guy next to me had burned his throat eating a hot potato and I asked his wife, the explainer of his malady, why she just didn't give him an ice cube to suck on and wasn't he old enough to know better? At least THEY left me alone after that.
Anyway, when I finally got up to pee, I realized my shoulder had put itself back into its socket and was only slightly painful. I made my way up to the front and when I told the Triage nurse, I thought she was going to kiss me. She even made sure I had a taxi home.
