| rev:text
| - I visited a year and a half ago. Yes, a year and a half ago and I'm writing this now.
I knocked myself out in a sports accident and ended up waking up and fumbling towards the nearest person who could drive me to the ER. We got there, I got put in a chair, and wheeled to a bed. Good.
Nurses were examining my forehead and top of my head where some bruises were. They failed to check the back of my head. Turns out I had a big gash that had oozed out blood slowly which I found out by simply grabbing the back of my head in pain. I had to tell them that the back of my head hurt before they even looked at it.
A few minutes later they were in another room about 40 feet away with the door open. I heard one nurse say, "What should we do? Should we give him stitches?" which didn't bother me but kind of threw me off when I heard it. I figured she was a newbie. I could tell they were talking to the doctor. I could hear them talking about staples and then a nurse came over talking and preparing me to get two staples.
Later on the only doctor there (some out of shape old white guy about 5'8" 160lbs in his late 50s) came to my bed with the medical stapler in hand and didn't even formally greet himself (which I didn't care at the time cause I was just trying not to fall asleep). So he immediately sat himself down and asked me what my name was. I responded thinking it was a test to see if I remembered who I was, because this same guy was just talking about me 5 minutes ago in another room. Then he asked me where I lived. I said the city, and he repeated the question again, so I told him my exact address, still thinking this was one of those tests. He then asked, "What are doing all the way out here?" I explained my situation. He then asked, "Why weren't you wearing a helmet? Hmm?" I didn't respond right away because the question threw me off, and my body was on the verge of falling asleep. He then asked, "Are you too cool for a helmet?" In that sort of tone like, "Was it you that chewed up the furniture and pooped on the carpet? Hmm?"
He completely dismissed the injury at that point. He wanted to make it personal. Probably because he doesn't get the chance to tell off younger males in the slow city of Boulder on a regular basis. I knew he would help me, but it was a matter of when. So I said to him in frustration, "Can you please just help me?"
He sat there for a second taking it in. He then bent my head forward and put one staple in. Then the 2nd (and last) staple. I could see his body move a lot just to get the second one in. And I could feel the second one go in crooked (not parallel with the 1st). I thought maybe the wound was shaped like that. But I thought that he was probably just being too quick to put them in. SO I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT HE PURPOSELY MESSED UP ON THE STAPLES until I got home and checked with two mirrors. Pic related.
And so after he got done with the staples he said, "Maybe you should wear a helmet next time." In that same tone while not looking at me when he said it. I could sense the tension. He hated me because I'm simply a young male. He walked back to his desk. Mind you the desk was literally 30ft in front of the foot of the bed I was at. A few minutes later he calls over some nurses to randomly talk to them about what to do if a patient gets violent. I'm just laying there listening to this, figuratively shaking my head. Later on I got my head further examined and then I went home.
I have attached a picture with the fully healed scar a year and a half later, today. As you can see, the 2nd staple left a crooked mark from the skin being pulled together on the lower right. The wound itself was a straight line.
If you live in Boulder City I would advise you to not go to this hospital, in all sincerity.
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