Yale ER Work

Some thoughts on working this past summer in the Yale Emergency Department taking surveys …

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Some are easy; others make it impossible. In room 18, a dude who could be my friend in another place and time. In 10, a 50 YO man with a neck brace, dying for company, mobility, grateful for conversation. In 15, the story is familiar — the tests are too long, and I just want to leave. I’ll answer your questions, but in all seriousness, kid, all I want to do is leave. 

On the other side, a Korean professor who works at Yale for something. I pitch him simple questions, and he snaps back at me. 

“Do you own a computer?”

A mixed look of grogginess overridden with irritation, disgust. He fires back, “I’m not even going to answer that question.” I laugh it off — the last patient was still trying to hop on the band wagon, still others can’t afford a computer.

Softball questions, emotionless, slightly apathetic — scientific, met with sarcasm and fiery annoyance. I ask, “Have you been homeless in the past year?”

“Leave. Just get out. Nurse, set him out of here.”

My 3 AM patience hobbles, it’s for the sake of science. I respect the question, and say, well I assume that’s a no. Two more questions, I subdued plead with him. In a different setting, he’d be kicked through the face, or perhaps exiled by his peers. Patience is a virtue. Patience is a virtue.

The night recedes. People heal, beds empty, new anxious faces fill the void. So it goes.