Source: digitashealth
The chinese lady barged into the screening
room without prior notice. She sat down in front of the nurse and her eyes were
darting around, in search of something.
She muttered, “Glucose check….poke needle…”,
and held out her clammy hands.
The nurse, who thought that the lady was
going through a hypoglycaemic episode, immediately took a lancet (the device used
to prick the patients’ finger to draw some blood for blood glucose testing), pricked
a tiny hole on her index finger and measured her blood glucose.
5.2. Alright. Not too bad. No hypo.
5.2. Alright. Not too bad. No hypo.
To our surprise, the lady shouted, “Quick!
Quick! Prick more holes on my fingers. QUICK! I am going to die in a few minutes if you do
not do so…” She grabbed the lancets and started fidgeting around, figuring how
she was supposed to use it.
The nurse realised that and
started removing the remaining lancets on the table. She turned over and shrugged,
“Doctor, I have no idea what she wants."
I approached her and started to calm
her down, but to no avail.
In a rushed tone, she said, “Doctor, you are all western doctors. You do not understand how
oriental medicine works. A lot of people taught me that I must prick all 10 fingers and squeeze the blood out if there is an
impending stroke. If the blood is not let out, I will die. I feel dizzy now.
My face is numb.”
She continued making a big fuss. The door was slightly ajar; the
patients in the waiting room started to peep into the room,
curious of what was going on behind the door.
"Okay, Madam. Could you please just calm down? 'Releasing' blood doesn't solve any problems."
She shook her head and waved her hands in protest.
Alright. Neurological examination it is. I decided that it was best
to just abort the topic.
“Madam,
I am going do a few examinations to make sure you are alright.”
“No. No, doctor, you do not understand. I will die!”
Using the blunt end of the lancet, I gently
touched a few points on her face, “Close your eyes. Now, tell me, can you feel
this?”
“Doctor, listen, you need to let the blood
out before I die.”
Ignoring her angry rants, I asked her once
more. I simply stared at her, waiting for an answer.
“Yes.”
I gave her a ‘I-told-you-you-were-not-gonna-die’
stare in my heart.
As I was about to tell her to sit still,
the medical assistants came in with a wheelchair and wheeled her off to the
treatment room to check her vital signs and do an ECG.
*****
20 minutes later, she was discharged, well and alive. No longer complaining about the impending stroke.
"If the blood is not let out, I will die."
