We Had Nurse Practitioner A**hole at the ER Tonight
I rushed my daughter down to the ER this afternoon, because a weekend of congestion and a low fever suddenly turned into a higher fever and her turning purple because she couldn't breathe (thankfully, I live right behind the hospital). It turns out she had a viral infection, which caused croup. Hence, the trouble breathing. Well, everyone was wonderful and brilliant with my sick and scared four year old...except, Nurse Practitioner Asshole. Why have I dubbed him this?
1. I realize that it is an ER (a military one, at that), and that there is no telling how long he had been there. I get that it is a stressful job. But. He really should not work with the children. Some people just are not good with children. He scared the hell out of my child. The triage nurse and the doctor who had been in just before did all the standard tests (listen to heart and lungs, blood pressure, etc.), and while she was shy and nervous, there were no problems. He came in to do the same things, and she actually shrank back whenever he tried to touch her. He would then just jerk her into position, and so of course she became terrified and was crying, which only made her cough and struggle to breathe again. So, of course, she didn't want to say "AH" for him when it came time to look in her throat. The nice doctor had walked back in, and he got her to open her mouth, and she was on the verge of saying "AH", when Asshole grabbed her face and shoved his finger in her throat to get her to do it. Had she been thrashing about or something, I could see resorting to this, but not when the guy with the much better bedside manner had her doing it the easy way.
2. Yes, my daughter and I do not get flu shots. Yes, I know why that is seen as bad by many people. She is up-to-date on all other vaccinations, and if he had given me a moment, I could have told him that if she were in daycare/preschool I might get her flu shot. No. Instead, he felt it was necessary to talk to me like I was an idiot and a terrible parent, and then tell a stressed and scared mother how horribly my child could die from the flu. My husband reached over and squeezed my hand, as if it say, "Calm down." I calmly told him that my reasons are my own and that I do not need him to guilt me into feeling like a bad mother.
ANYway...I just needed to vent a bit.
I am...a dreadlocks sportin', vegan food diggin', garden growin', floaty skirt wearin', bare feet steppin', from scratch cookin', non-spankin', homeschoolin', fiction writin', couponin', dog adoptin', displaced Texan, wife of a soldier and mother of a darlin'...