This morning, Alex saw his GP. He was told to go to Emergency at Royal Perth Hospital, where his cardiologist was based.Callum, having just worked three double shifts at Bravos, was summoned to drive him to RPH. Once Callum informed me what was happening, I was on the road by midday. This was not how I'd wanted to spend this particular Monday.
I roared into the parking areas around RPH just before two o'clock. I walked briskly into Emergency in search of my son. The ambulances (sorry Dr Hames) were queued up in the driveway. *ramping* Alex was inside, having been stabbed for bloods and monitored, but not much else. I had never been in RPH before. On a Monday afternoon, the place was packed.
After a couple more hours of nothing much, Alex had a chest X-ray, was given scripts, a medical certificate for work and a summary for his GP. And he was released into my care for a week of rest and recuperation. In peak hour traffic, we set out to pick up gear from his unit and head for Beverley.
I was reasonably impressed by RPH Emergency. The staff were approachable, answered my questions, found me a chair, explained "the plan" and discharged Alex after five hours. He has a diagnosis of myocarditis, but we didn't see his cardiologist (who is based at RPH) and we have no idea if this is going to be a recurrent condition.
After nearly three hours on the road, we drove into the House that Rocks. I was so grateful to see the outside lights welcoming us home. Just as well Michael was feeling better as I was too tired to stick the pizza in the oven. Twenty minutes later, on bread and butter plates with paper towel for serviettes, we had dinner.
I am on my fourth glass of vino.
An empty emergency department...LOL...
this is a bit more like it...
RPH Emergency Department entry...
Ambulances ramping...oops...Dr Hames has banned ramping. Except I saw six ambulances waiting to unload patients today at two o'clock...
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