1 /5 Kristy Hoffman: I came to this "facility" in a terrible state. I was later told that in addition to the violent vomiting, my skin had turned yellow, my eyes were red, bloodshot, and sunken in, and the skin around my eyes was dark. As I sunk into a wheelchair, begging for help, crying that I was feeling like I would pass out, the intake secretary/nurse blandly glanced my way and kept on taking her sweet time. There was one person in front of me and he was polite enough to waltz calmly to the window and take his time as well. It began to hazily occur to me then that *no one* in this place had any understanding of the word "urgent" whatsoever.
When they wheeled me into the medical area, the nurses all stopped to stare at me. The doctor(?) who saw me kept trying to ask me questions, refusing to have my fiancé answer because *calm voice* "We have to hear from the patient." So they stood there and waited while I continued to vomit and gasp for air instead. When I finally chocked out, "How long do I have to wait?" They said, "Well, weve been behind for maybe an hour." I have no clue what these people were doing because the place looked fairly empty to me, everything was quiet except for my intense hurling, shuddering, gasping, and crying, and the waiting room Id been in was empty. When they realized how terrible I was, how quickly I was deteriorating, they bumped me up in their very, very short line of patients.
I spent maybe an hour there before they called an ambulance to take me to the hospital, which was an equally pleasant place to be. When the paramedics arrived the first thing they said to me, no joke, was, "Dont come here."
I echo that sentiment. *Dont go here.*
