Wrestlers provide better medical care than the hospital.

As I sit here, with my left foot elevated and iced, due to it's third grade sprain, which is about as bad as sprains go, I can't help but reminisce about yesterday afternoons foray in the public health system. Now, I don't know about you, but I'd generally presume, and hope, that six or so years in medical school, or however much training they do, would result in, oh, I don't know, maybe some sort of ability to treat things like illness or injury. Yeah, crackpot idea.

Backstage, I presented my co-workers with my ankle. I was seen to and treated immediately. Within minutes, my foot was iced, elevated and I was having a medicinal beer. I was assisted in every possible way. Wrestlers, not paramedics, not medically trained in any way. Wrestling is physical, some of my co workers work, or have worked, as personal trainers, and they know what to do.

Now let's look at the hospital. I hopped to triage, which was empty. Ten minutes later the staff returned, and it was another ten before it was seen. Triage dude thought it could be broken, so they get me a wheel chair, tell me to do the red tape shuffle at the clerical window, and then goof to xray. Sounds fine.

Until Miss Admin says to sit down and wait, she's busy. Hello? Sit down? I'm in a wheelchair with a technicolour foot. Here's a tip, looking at people provides invaluable information. Just saying. Fifteen minutes tick by. She finally takes the details and we're off to xray to wait somewhere else. A change, it's as good as a holiday.

They tell me the radiographer is busy. Radiographer. Singular. They only have one? No wonder they're all wearing badges that proclaim, "staffed to budget, not patient care". Such a reassuring position. We wait. And wait. The beer has worn off, I don't have it iced. The wait goes on. 4.28 pm, the world turns to pain as my foot swells even more and the throbbing intensifies as the wonderful sense of disconnection previously protecting me disappears.

They eventually x Ray it. Then its back to emergency to continue waiting. Just after six they give me pain killers and ice it. Hours after arrival, I finally received the same level of basic care I got backstage. It's all the administration. Gets in the way of the treating people part.

Side note. While I waited, someone walked to the shop for panadeine. Those painkillers got to me before the hospitals did. My advice is, when injured, look for the big burly dude without a neck, he doesn't have to deal with red tape, or get senior approval before applying icepacks.