California

On Saturday we flew home to California. I was due to fly back to Miles City on Monday. On Sunday, Mom called the hospital in Auburn to find out how to see a neurologist. They said to go in to the emergency room and ask the doctor to get the on-call neurologist. Turns out, there was no on-call neurologist. It took us most of the day to find this out. The ER doctor found nothing wrong. He told us to see a neurologist.
The next morning, Mom came to my room while I was still in bed. She had called the ER at the University of California, Davis in Sacramento to find out if they had an on-call neurologist. They did.
Mom and Dad did not want me to go back to Miles City yet. I wanted to do what would make them feel most comfortable, so I agreed to stay. Mom called the airline to change my flight. They said that since it was due to illness, I had one year to use the ticket. “Good,” I thought, “I’ll just go home and get back to work in a few days.”
We arrived at the UC Davis emergency room around 11:00 am. We signed in and started to wait. People with terrible problems came in after me and were accepted before me. “He should go before me,” I said, “she should go before me.” In an emergency room I was low priority. I had no pain, my vital signs were good, I could carry on a conversation and I appeared healthy. I just talked a little funny and I could fall over when walking. Mom confirmed with triage that there was an on-call neurologist that would be called when I was seen. We waited.
Around 2:00 pm Mimi just walked in the door. It was very surprising since she lived about two hours away. We had been on the phone with her a lot, and she was very concerned about her little sister. Her appearance in the hospital was a bit alarming to me because it meant that something might really be wrong. She thought that we were not demanding enough with the health care providers. She gave Mom a pep talk, telling her what to say to the doctors when we were seen. Mimi went to the hospital cafeteria to get us some food. We couldn’t leave because we expected to hear my name called any minute. Mimi had to leave around 5:00 PM to get home to her three kids.
Mom, Dad and I waited and chatted with people in pain. We waited. My name was called at 1:00 am, 14 hours after we signed in.
The resident ER doctor came in and did a neurological exam. I was showing the signs of having a problem – failing the clinical neurological tests (or passing them depending on your perspective). Then the attending doctor came in. My Mom told her that we wanted to see the on-call neurologist. The doctor said we could only see the neurologist if I was having a stroke, at that moment. Mom started to boil. Mom was furious. The doctor kicked my parents out of the exam room. She said that Mom was interfering with her talking to the patient. That’s when Mom wanted to kill her. “I can call security,” the doctor said after Mom was gone.
She examined me a bit. I told her my story. The flu. The fatigue. How I was supposed to see a neurologist. She talked about doing a lumbar puncture. She decided not to do one because she didn’t think I needed one and there are risks associated with them. She didn’t want to do anything “unnecessary,” even though she did lumbar punctures “all the time.”
The neurologist was not called. No tests were done. I was in the exam room for about 15 minutes, after waiting 14 hours. She said to see a neurologist. Douche bag!
The next day, Mom called some neurologists in the area. The soonest appointment available was over a month away. She and Dad discussed this. I wanted to go home and get back to work. Mom made an appointment with a neurologist in Billings, Montana in two days.
Billings is about two hours away from my home in Miles City.
Dad and I left the next morning. We had just enough time to make it to the appointment. And I was going home. Sigh. I later learned that Steven, Mimi’s husband, told my Mom that sending me back to Montana was “the stupidest thing you could do.” He was probably right.
I was surprised about how much attention I was getting. People were arguing over my health. I felt fine; I just couldn’t walk or talk well and I was tired. I didn’t want to be a burden. I needed to get back to work. There was so much to be done.