He deserves better

Last night at about 7:30, Steve asked me: “Do I have a burn on the side of my face? Because it feels like it.”

In the dim light of our living room, I saw a significant dark red patch extending along his jawline from the left corner of his lip nearly to his ear. It hurt, he said. I asked him what he’d done: He’d popped a zit, then sterilized it with a drop of rubbing alcohol he’d dipped a Q-tip into.

The same alcohol I’d used to clean a wound our cat Noelle got earlier this week when jumping over the fence, which, when I swiped a cotton ball drenched in the stuff over it, had kind of stuck, rather than smoothed over like you’d expect rubbing alcohol to do. She’d been acting weird since, and I noticed that the stuff had bleached out her black fur to a ruddy brown. Odd.

I vaguely remember having a conversation about a year ago regarding that bottle of alcohol, which is not what’s inside it, about not using it, about not wanting to pour it down the drain because it was some chemical we had mixed in order to clean something. I don’t remember the details. But now I understand the ramifications.

Steve took a shower, and came down to report his face was now weeping pus. Sure enough, a tiny row of blisters had formed along his jawline, and the skin beneath it has turned from pink to dark purple.

Google to the rescue.

Google told us (from several good sources, like WebMD) that chemical burns on the face are considered an emergency, especially if they blister and weep.

The issue is that Steve’s medical coverage is through the VA. He’s an Iraq War I veteran. The Denver VA sucks, especially its emergency room. However, it was go there or pay thousands at another ER. Steve flushed his face with water for another 10 minutes, then we left, bringing entertainment with us because there is no such thing as a short wait at the Denver VA ER.

We arrived at 9:20 pm. The nurse didn’t triage him until 10:59 pm–meaning no one asked us why we were there for 100 minutes. During that time, I watched the blisters along his jaw weep clear liquid, and the chemicals, which were obviously working through his skin from the inside, make their way up toward his ear. When the nurse looked at it, she immediately went to talk to a doctor, then came back to tell us we’d have the next bed.

At 1 am, after we’d watched 9News and Leno and Jimmy Kimmel, after I’d read nearly 100 pages in my book and Steve had played countless games of Solitaire on his iPod, another nurse came in to tell us that we still wouldn’t be seen for hours. Hours, she emphasized. Like five or six.

We went home. I called the VA nurse line to document that we’d been the ER and couldn’t get treated, and to have the official nurse recommendation for emergency care put into the computer, which sometimes can cause you to get seen faster. She told us the day shift started at 8am. Steve rinsed his face for another 10 minutes, then covered the burn with gauze, took more Advil and went to sleep.

This morning he arrived back at the ER at 830, was finally seen by a doctor around 10a, and was told, “The damage is done.Now, you just have to keep it clean and watch for infection.”

Did I mention that the burn is on his face? Did I mention that we were in the ER needing treatment from 920 pm until almost 130 am? Did I mention that both Google and a VA nurse said his case was a true emergency, and yet we could not get care?

As we waited, there were others there who had been there longer than us, in some cases by hours.

“If you’re lucky, you won’t have too much scarring,” the doctor told him this morning.

Now, we get to watch for infection, and figure out on our own (since he can’t get a follow up appointment until next Wednesday) how to take care of the wound. Because at the VA, the only real way into the system in time to have something taken care of before it becomes acute is through the ER. I talked to a dermatology nurse at the medical center where I work, and she told me that the University doctors staff the VA dermatology clinic, and she would help me get him an appointment if the wound gets worse.

I fucking hate the VA hospital. Our veterans deserve better. My husband deserves better.