About a year ago, I had strange chest pains anywhere from one to three times a day. Chest pain that would just come on, STAB! then go away. No rhyme or reason.
It had been going on for about a week or two when my best friend Harve, saw me clutch my chest and wince in pain for a few seconds when she declared my need for an ER visit and attempted to whisk me off to the nearest hospital.
But in typical Zengel style, I insisted everything was fine and that eventually it would just go away. In typical “I studied nursing in college” style, Harve insisted everything was not fine and that if it happened again during my visit, off we’d go.
The next morning, just as we were about to leave the house to pick up some delicious bagels, STAB!, once again. I tried to hide it, or pretend it was part of a really painful yawn, but to no avail. So, with a small pit stop at the local bagelry, off we went.
Now, one of the only other times I was in the ER was 20 years ago with Harve when she broke her arm during our 6th grade Halloween dance. She went as an 80s rockstar (complete with silver, tinsel wig, and garish makeup, a la the Misfits) and I went as a gypsy (complete with loud head scarves, garish makeup, and tons of jewelry).
As tears smeared her crazy makeup, Harve hobbled into the ER tenderly supporting the sling Mom Z. (always a chaperon) fashioned out of a Saltines box and a classmate’s mummy costume (shout out, Seth C.).
Knowing how strange we must look to the other ER patients especially considering our Halloween dance was 2 weeks before the holiday, Harve and I found a way to laugh through her tears.
So, considering our first ER visit was so memorable, we figured our second ER visit together would be much more tame.
Right.
Armed with bagels, we sat in the ER waiting room awaiting triage, followed quickly by gowning up and awaiting some good ol’ doctoring.
This ER had an open floor plan — beds with curtains around them, everyone facing the nurses’ station (and other patients). The nurse who took my EKG was ultra nice and had a quirky sense of humor. I liked him immediately.
In between doctors stopping by to ask questions about my pain, the nurse would stop by and trade quips with us. Once he stopped by and saw that I was nearly finished with the bottle of apple juice I bought at the bagel place earlier and a look of pure mischief passed over his face.
He asked if he could steal some and when I agreed, he hurriedly poured a little into a urine sample cup. With a wink, he set off for the nurses’ station.
He chatted with them for a few seconds, raising up the urine sample cup so all could see, then started to drink from it. Harve and I stifled laughter as some of the other patients looked on horrified as the nurses shouted disgusted exclamations.
It only lasted a few minutes until he confessed what was in the cup, but the ruse got everyone in the ER laughing, including the people on the other side of my “privacy curtain” who congratulated us in playing a part in it.
Sidenote: I am fine. Still have no idea what the pain was caused from, but sure enough it did just go away. Mostly.
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