ER SAMOAN STYLE

The chickens file past the entrance of the ER as a flatbed pickup pulls up. a patient too large to fit in the regular ambulance is helped from the truck and placed on a hospital bed, to be wheeled into the mayhem. the chart rack is filled, patient wait time 5 hours. people of various ages and ailments line the interior of the ward, iv poles next to breathing machines, in front of the xray lightboard, and so it goes. the office i see patients in doubles as an ekg room, a woman with a cellulitic ulcer lays on a stretcher in one corner, as i diagnose pregnancy via urinanalysis to an unsuspecting young mother in the other. a cpr code is called in the trauma room, sometimes conducted on a patient already deceased to ease family grief. unfortunately it's the weekend, and all mothers bring their screaming infants to the only game in town, as pediatrics is a mon-fri gig.

I fumble through a differential diagnosis for a right lower quadrant pain, keeping in mind the (1 and only) swedish radiologist left town a few days earlier, and there won't be another one til august. the patient tells me they used traditional fofo medicine consisting of leaves for treatment. No problem, order some labs- well, they may take 4 hours and you may have to go to the lab yourself to ask where the results are. otoscopes on the wall all have their heads mysteriously missing, keep an eye on your bag. trying to speak a few words of samoan, it comes out like gibberish, making no sense to the patient or myself- time to get the translator/nurse.

Welcome to Samoan ER.