The words snapped into place like a latch. Right lower quadrant pain. Nausea. Vomiting. Fever. Classic acute appendicitis\u2014until proven otherwise.\u201cWhat\u2019s your temperature?\u201d I asked, and hated how steady my voice sounded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. They took it earlier. The nurse said it was \u2018a little high.’\u201d\u201cAnd the doctor?\u201d\u201cHe barely touched my stomach. Like a quick poke. Then he asked if I\u2019d used opioids before. He kept looking at my arms. Like my tattoos were the actual problem. He told the nurse to give me Tylenol and discharge me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tylenol. Discharge. My son\u2019s pain had a sound now, pressed into the syllables like nails into wood.
\n\u201cListen to me,\u201d I said. \u201cDo not leave. You tell them your father is Dr. Garrison Mills, Chief of Surgery at St. Catherine\u2019s. You tell them I\u2019m on my way.\u201d
\nThere was a small, desperate inhale. \u201cDad\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan,\u201d I cut in, and my voice cracked around his name. \u201cIf your appendix ruptures because they\u2019re delaying care, that can become sepsis. Peritonitis. That\u2019s not dramatic. That\u2019s physiology. Do you understand me?\u201d
\n\u201cI understand. I\u2019m scared.\u201d\u201cI know. Stay put. Keep the line open if you can. I\u2019m leaving now.\u201d
\nI ended the call, grabbed my coat, and tried not to slam the door hard enough to wake the surgical residents sleeping in the call rooms down the hall. Outside, the parking lot was empty and slick with winter rain. My breath came out in pale fog. I fumbled my keys like I\u2019d never held them before.<\/p>\n
I\u2019d worked in medicine long enough to know two things could be true at once: we were capable of miracles, and we were capable of cruelty so casual it barely registered as cruelty at all. And I knew something else too\u2014something I\u2019d learned not from textbooks but from late-night morbidity conferences and quiet conversations with nurses who\u2019d seen too much. Some doctors decided who deserved care before they decided what care was needed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The words snapped into place like a latch. Right lower quadrant pain. Nausea. Vomiting. Fever. Classic acute appendicitis\u2014until proven otherwise.\u201cWhat\u2019s your temperature?\u201d I asked, and hated how… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18688","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news"],"yoast_head":"\n