Years ago, I suffered a severe concussion. I was playing second base in a co-ed SLO-Pitch game when a ball hit the air behind me. Without thinking, I ran back as fast as I could. Unfortunately, the appropriate fielder was also going for the ball. The appropriate fielder easily doubled my weight and was taller than me. Needless to say, we collided - hard.
I don't remember the impact very well - I must have been unconscious for a while. What I remember is that my right shoe was lying on the ground, across the diamond. My teammates gathered around me, helping me off the field. My world was spinning, and all I could say was, "My shoe fell off."
This is my point; my teammates initially thought I had twisted my ankle. I was pulled from the game and sat on the bench watching. The world kept spinning around me like a dizzying sea, and I soon had to sit on the ground. I leaned against the fence, holding my head.
Fortunately, there were some first responders on my team who took action. They knew something was seriously wrong, so they called an ambulance. I will be forever grateful to them for doing so. At the time, I didn't know I had a concussion; I foolishly thought I was fine. I might have gone days without seeking medical care. At this point, my friends' actions were crucial. They did their best to provide me with the care I needed. Unfortunately, the hospital I went to was severely lacking.
When I arrived at the hospital on a stretcher, I was given a tag that said MRI and left in the hallway. Nurses, doctors, and EMTs rushed past me for the next hour, but no one checked why I was there or even glanced in my direction. Everything made me dizzy, I felt like I was going to vomit, and I had a severe headache. My husband, who was already unhappy with the lack of care I was receiving, went to find someone.
He brought back a nurse who looked at me and dismissively said I was in the waiting room. They were very busy that night, and the hallway was overflowing. We didn't know what to do, so we waited. In the next three...