Logan Tests Out the Emergency Room

A few weeks ago I took Logan to the ER at 12:30 AM. Just before that, Landon and I had been brushing our teeth in the bathroom when we heard a strange noise. I followed it down the hall and into my bedroom where I found the source: Logan. His raspy, labored breathing warranted a trip to the hospital. There were no buses running, so Logan and I got into the van and drove (illegally) to the hospital. I was nervous about parking because there are only about 20 parking spots around the building. I needn't have worried. I think the people who can afford vehicles use private hospitals.

When I first walked in, I saw a line and joined it. When I got to the front, the lady perked up and called me "hermana." I was relieved to have someone from church there, with the language and health care system being foreign to me. She pointed me to another door across the way and said to wait there for triage. I waited and waited, but nobody opened the mysterious blue door. Meanwhile Logan was rasping and barking and had green oozing from his eyes and nose. Exasperated, the secretary bypassed protocol and just handed me a yellow card. While walking back to the first line with my card, I gazed back at the blue door with curiosity, but still nobody popped out.

After Hermana Hidalgo processed my paperwork, I sat down in the chairs with the rest of the masses and hunkered down with a book and snacks for the long wait. I had just set up camp when I heard Logan's name called. I couldn't believe it! Apparently a yellow card meant I got to jump ahead of the rest of the folks waiting. I tried to add an element of apology to my smile as I looked back at the waiting room and headed into the patient room. There was only one harried doctor covering the whole ER, including triage. He spent a total of 90 seconds with us before proclaiming it was laryngitis and sending us into the treatment area.

Here, Logan received 3 treatments with the nebulizer. I got to pin a mask against his nose and mouth while he did his best to impersonate a wild bronco. It was after the steroid shot that his breathing began to quiet and we were released from the hospital. They pointed me to a dark hall and gave me directions to the pharmacy so that I could leave with Logan's prescription. After I followed the hall and turned right, I was in complete darkness. I retraced my steps and gave my confused face (still not that great at Spanish) to the nurse. She assured me I had gone the right way. Seeing my reluctance to stumble around in the dark unknown, she guided me down a couple of dark corridors until I saw a dim light. She sent me through some double doors and I found myself in the pharmacy, where I acquired Logan's meds without problems.

So despite the blood on the floor, the dark corridors, and the cursory inspection from the doctor, Logan received the treatments he needed. He was home and breathing without problems in under 4 hours. I'm surprisingly impressed with, and grateful for, our 3rd world, socialized health care.

I tried to convince the doctor to write me a prescription to put in my nebulizer at home, but he insisted on the inhaler. "How do I get an infant to use an inhaler?" I questioned. I couldn't imagine Logan breathing in on the count of 3. The doctor hurriedly advised me to make a spacer and then sped off like the White Rabbit.

I made it out of a toilet paper roll, a pop bottle, and a latex glove. Didn't learn THAT in nursing school.

Now he's back to his old antics, emptying out the cupboards

and trying to fish in the toilet.