Casualty departments are just that.

1 10 2007

I hate casualty departments almost as much as Kyle really really really really hates banks.

The last time I went to casualty was to the Royal Berkshire Hospital in Reading. I sat there for five hours with a fractured metatarsal before storming off home.

I had done something to my foot in karate and it had been very sore for three weeks. This time, I was fed up enough with this injury that I decided to go to casualty after work today.

At the casualty reception, I was asked for my details and for information about my injury. The nurse filled in a duplicate form and I was told to wait. The form had ‘Deaf, please shout’ written across the top. Grrr.

I waited and waited. And waited. People came and went. It was bedlam. This foreign lady sat next to me and started telling me all about her pet dog and how it would alert her to the phone and doorbell. She explained she had too much wax in her ears, she’d had it removed, and is still deaf. She wanted to know how my Hearing Dog worked for me, and why I was deaf. All in a voice loud enough to ensure everyone else in the waiting room could hear her. Her daughter then sat next to us and explained her mother is deaf and so on and so forth. Oh joy.

Smudge started getting very agitated, and these two ladies kept offering to go to Sainsbury’s and get him some dog food. No, no, he’s fine I said. The mother went to reception and came back with a biscuit for Smudge. Gawd. The conversation carried on, revolving around the mother’s inability to hear and didn’t Smudge want another biscuit?

Three hours later, I had almost lost the will to live. I was so tired from the incessant din in the waiting room, from the constant concentration on people so I could turn around every time someone came into the waiting room, so that I wouldn’t miss a doctor or nurse that entered, and trying to lipread every nurse / doctor in the hope that I would catch my name when they called it out.

I went to reception and asked if I had missed my name being called out. No…. I was supposed to hand the form in to reception, who had given me the form in the first place! Ack! They asked for my address and told me to wait. Half an hour later, a doctor called me in and I was out in five minutes – it’s a sprain that will take weeks to heal as I walk so much every day. There’s not much you can do when you’ve got a working dog!

I was NOT happy at the service I got. Reasonable adjustments for deaf people doesn’t mean writing ‘Deaf, please shout’ on the form and not giving clear instructions!

As a friend says, you wouldn’t offer a blind person a torch, so don’t offer to shout for a deaf one. Speaking normally will be fine, just make sure you’re facing me!



7 responses

2 10 2007

You got a mans foot!! 😛

What friggin pain having to wait, hence why I take my partner if my name is called out.
Trick is if it’s the same nurse calls out, tell her that you’re Deaf.
In my case when I broke my arm (Don’t ask) it was three nurses calling out and I told each one or make one of them aware to tell others.
Works every time cos I am very impatient!

2 10 2007

Thats pretty appalling – I would be fuming if that happened to me – you going to complain?

2 10 2007

Fintan – I did tell the nurse I’m deaf and he was right there for 3 hours and never bothered to ask why I was still sitting there.

Smarty – oh yes I will complain. Watch this space.

2 10 2007
Debbie C.

Shove that paper up their azz GRRRRRRR

2 10 2007

Tina, I know I said I’d post an update on me banking problems but its still not resolved after all this time, so waiting for it to be sorted! Grrr!

I always tell the nurse/GP/whoever to come over to me when they call me out. If they didn’t seem too receptive, I go back every five minutes to annoy them into submission.

Obviously with a sore foot, you don’t want to be limping back and forth all the time.

Sounds like Smudge had a better time of it than you did!

11 10 2007

and no fintan, that’s not my foot. tee hee

26 03 2008

Oh!! Miserable!! I had to wait in emergency room last month. I had two emergency surgeries. The second one a week after the first. I was in so much pain the second time and had to sit there in horrible pain waiting. My husband helped check me in, then went to go get dinner and left me there waiting for quite some time. Like you, I told them I couldn’t/wouldn’t hear them call me, so I had to strain to look at the nurse every time she came out. Trouble is it was a big room with many doors on several sides, so I couldn’t be sure which door the nurse would come out of. I had to look around constantly. Luckily I had a pain pill left over from the first surgery and popped it while waiting. But then that affected my ability to read lips. The wait was only two hours, however in American Emergency rooms– once you get into a room doesn’t mean the doctor will see you right away. You get to sit in a little room behind a closed curtain for several more hours, though if you’re in pain they will pump you with drugs. Counting that I waited a total of seven hours before being admitted back into the hospital. ARRGGHHH!

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