Me (after leaving room and going to our lounge): Ahhhh!! If you have a huge zipper scar going down your chest, are taking medicines for high blood pressure and diabetes, that’s a clue that you do, in fact, have medical problems. Jus’ sayin’.

Now onto: They Had A Fever So I Just Rushed Them In.

Me: So, what brings you to the emergency department today?

Kid’s Parent: He had a fever.

Me: How high was the fever?

KP: I don’t know, but he felt hot.

Me: Did you give them anything for the fever?

KP: Oh no. I just rushed them here.

Now, one should note that the triage nurse gave the kid some Tylenol in triage. While I’m chatting with Mom, the kid has pulled out all the gauze and tongue depressors in the room and built a three-story house, complete with a swimming pool from an emesis basin, while downing a bag of Cheetos Mom got him from the vending machine in the waiting room.

What really drives me mad is that not only do they not treat the fever, but they don’t have a thermometer, and don’t have medicine at home. ALL parents should have this stuff at home. Maybe I’ll start giving out bottles of acetaminophen and ibuprofen at all the baby showers I attend.

It’s not that I don’t think parents should bring in their little angels when they are scared something bad could be going on. I just wish they would have given the kid something. I know how I’ve felt when fighting a fever in the past, and it sucks. I try to educate parents that their little ones are fussing because they feel miserable, too. At least try some meds at home to see if that helps. A little education in this respect is all part of the job.

Now for the most nerve-grating expression I hear: It’s Been A Minute. I really hate this one. It makes my skin crawl.

Me: What brings you to the ED today?

Patient: My stomach hurts.

Me: How long has it been hurting?

Patient: Oh, it’s been a minute. Gaahhhh! So basically what you’re telling me is that you have the ability to see the future, since you timed your arrival to the ED and to the exam room, so that upon my arrival you have been hurting for exactly 60 seconds. Because that’s what a minute is to me. It’s 60 seconds. Didn’t we learn to tell time in preschool?