Rainy days and Mondays, or as the song says, always get me down. That’s not true for me. I enjoy the wet weather, and Monday, now, is my official day off. At least, for the most part, I try to unload the day to treat it like I want to—my choice.
But yesterday, Monday, started out busy. I’m okay with tackling issues and requests while my bride is asleep, but if she’s awake and we want to take the day to another level of experience, I’m slightly bothered by busyness. I want “us time.” Don’t take this personally, but sometimes, we all need a break from technology and ringing phones. If I could rid myself of spam, then 9/10 of the battle is won!
Throw in an E.R. visit, and it gets drilled into the thought that it’s not just another Monday.
Sitting in the waiting room, I took special note of arrivals. There were a lot of men older than I showing up in wheelchairs. Bandages, bruises, sore limbs – there must have been a lot of falls on Monday. I was especially bothered by all the older women pushing the men through triage and to the chairs. Where were their helpers? Children? Why didn’t they call an ambulance? Is this the status of a supportive family in these times?
Quite a few folks looked healthy enough to go to urgent care or visit their primary care.
One attendant said that we came to the end of the first wave of needs,
and the next wave normally starts around dinner time.
Primarily, it’s “people who need primary care and not emergency care.”
That’s the status of healthcare in America. I guess.
Listen with me as those on their phones had loud conversations, not caring who was listening to their private details. There is a loss of privacy and quiet discussions about health issues, especially with people like me who watch and listen to people like them. I am always told to lower my volume, but I have a projecting voice, so I learn to whisper a conversation and hope others have their hearing aids turned up. Privacy status goes out the window when you are in the ER.
On a different trip, the waiting room was filled with misery, sitting next to healthy people who were squeamish with the sounds, smells, and sights. Though no “pandemic level” care was needed, you could still cringe when a hacking cough or a fevered brow was noticed. This may not have been the time for someone to show up and offer a shoulder of support, but we all suffer alone when we await our turn. Oh my.
I was surprised by the number of folks who were alone—no caregiver, friend, or family member sitting with them. I guess this is the status of family connections in my state of life. At least I reached out to our family to apprise them of our situation. We were in limbo between the last time and primary care referrals. It takes a while for insurance to approve the next step. When I talk to those who are walking the requests through the system, I am told it takes weeks for some referrals to happen. I guess that’s the status of loopholes, bottlenecks, and emergent care in America. Their reply? Swamped! There are not enough staff or hours in the day to handle all the needs.
Fortunately, our ER time was shorter. The doctors, nurses, and test results told us we had nothing to worry about. At the very least, the markers show that nothing bad happened to cause an emergency response on their part. There were tests, EKGs, blood draws, X-rays, and conversations – but we’re safe! Back home! Dog’s fed and cared for! Dinner! Rest! Bed…tomorrow comes soon enough.
Monday is history. Today is the first day of a work week that will not stop until we get home next Sunday after church. As my dad said often after a testimony service, “Y’all pray for us.”
Pleasant words are like a honeycomb,
Sweetness to the soul and health to the bones.
(Proverbs 16:24 NKJV)
The eyes of the LORD are in every place,
Keeping watch on the evil and the good.
(Proverbs 15:3 NKJV)
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