T
he thing people hate most about being in the ER is not the pain or the fear. It’s the waiting. You come rushing in in a panic, only to skid to a stop on the tiled floor and cool your heels for three hours waiting for a knight in shining scrubs to come to your rescue. Nobody likes waiting around in the ER.
That waiting around was definitely what was bothering Doris. But first I needed to figure out what was bothering her husband, George, who had arrived in the ER via ambulance and was complaining of chest pain.
“Male, 76 years old,” reported the paramedic. “Reports pain and heaviness in the chest, pain radiating down to left arm.” He rattled off his vitals. “We gave him aspirin and nitro, we sent the ECG to you, it’s sinus rhythm.”
I stepped into the room. George lay back on the bed, Doris fluttered nearby. “How are you feeling?”
