Even medical personnel with the best intentions are screwed by regulations meant to “avoid abuse.” Ten years ago, I had to go to the ER because of a kidney stone. The pain was like nothing I’d imagined—a nurse later told me that only childbirth would be more painful. A doctor gave me an injection of Demerol. It didn’t work. After a few minutes of me gasping in pain, he gave me a shot of Dilaudil. It worked, and I let out a huge sigh of relief as the pain ended. He left the room to do some paperwork, because anyone who needs a stronger-than-ordinary painkiller might be a junkie looking for a fix.
Fortunately he didn’t dawdle, because after I let out that sigh of relief, I forgot to inhale. The Dilaudil had stopped my breathing, and when he came back in the room I was lying on the floor, unconscious (they said). They tell me I’d turned blue before they could get me breathing again. I spent the next twenty-four hours in ICU until they were sure my breathing reflexes were working again. But some well-paid bureaucrat got a form assuring him that the ER was on the lookout for evil drug addicts.
Even medical personnel with the best intentions are screwed by regulations meant to “avoid abuse.” Ten years ago, I had to go to the ER because of a kidney stone. The pain was like nothing I’d imagined—a nurse later told me that only childbirth would be more painful. A doctor gave me an injection of Demerol. It didn’t work. After a few minutes of me gasping in pain, he gave me a shot of Dilaudil. It worked, and I let out a huge sigh of relief as the pain ended. He left the room to do some paperwork, because anyone who needs a stronger-than-ordinary painkiller might be a junkie looking for a fix.
Fortunately he didn’t dawdle, because after I let out that sigh of relief, I forgot to inhale. The Dilaudil had stopped my breathing, and when he came back in the room I was lying on the floor, unconscious (they said). They tell me I’d turned blue before they could get me breathing again. I spent the next twenty-four hours in ICU until they were sure my breathing reflexes were working again. But some well-paid bureaucrat got a form assuring him that the ER was on the lookout for evil drug addicts.