I finally broke down and went to the emergency roo...

I finally broke down and went to the emergency room after dealing with lower back and abdominal pain for weeks. I was taken back to triage quickly, and the nurses were all kind, but those are the only positive aspects of this hospital.

The on call doctor I had the misfortune of dealing with seemed to have a college frat boy mentality, even down to his rather limited vocabulary, which was peppered with four letter words, with an emphasis on those an adolescent boy would use to talk about his genitalia. This "doctor" spent much of his time either talking about his patients, or "teaching" the residents that they should be careful not to order too many tests or procedures, as the subsequent bills to various insurance companies would cause the hospital to be audited. (Apparently, they're currently third in billing the most insurance claims, but the frat boy "doctor" claims to be trying hard to have that rank drop). I was always under the impression that when a patient is being seen, the goal is to diagnose the problem, and then treat it, which might require ordering certain tests or procedures to ensure an accurate diagnosis. Apparently, I was mistaken. It seems that the goal (to this "doctor", at least) is to make sure to avoid being audited. Comforting thought, huh?

So after asking a few very generic questions about my symptoms, but not giving me time to elaborate on anything, the "doctor" asks what my goal is. I respond that I'd like imaging done to see if they can locate the cause of my continuing lower back and abdominal pain. He says something about getting in touch with my primary doctor to coordinate, then disappears.

At some point, I'm wheeled off for a CT scan, then brought back to triage, where I'm told the "doctor" has ordered morphine, and did I want it. I told the nurse that I'd prefer to not get any if I'd be released anytime soon, but I guess since it was obvious to her that I was in pain, she gave it to me anyway.

Not long after, the "doctor" shows up and decides that since the adrenal tumor they were looking for didn't show up on the CT scan, that my problem must be that I was either a drug addict (despite passing the urine drug screen with flying colors, and telling the nurse that I preferred to not receive morphine), or that I have some sort of eating disorder. I've been thin my entire life - much to my dismay - and despite doing everything I can to put on weight. My entire family is thin. I'm pretty sure it's something called genetics.

I'm no doctor, but I would think that if it's commonly accepted knowledge in the medical community that some people have slower than average metabolisms, that there are also people on the other end of the spectrum who have faster than average metabolisms. Apparently that thought never occurred to the frat boy "doc". Since he didn't immediately see some glaring abnormality on my CT scan, rather than even considering other possibilities, it was far easier to make blanket assumptions about a person who he had spent a total of perhaps 5 minutes with, then send them on their way.

I wouldn't trust this hospital to treat a minor cut, much less an actual emergency, especially when they have on call "doctors" sitting around gossiping about the patients and lecturing the residents about ordering less tests to avoid audits. If you're in need of emergency services, avoid this hospital at all costs.