** Names and details have been changed to protect patient confidentiality, privacy, and dignity **
Marla was in pain.
Pain is subjective. Heart rate and blood pressure tend to elevate with pain, but this is not definite. We attempt to quantify pain by using a scale of 1 to 10, with a "10" equivalent to childbirth or the passage of kidney stones. Again, this is subjective. It can be a challenge to evaluate and manage pain, especially with the growing issue of narcotic abuse.
Marla rated her pain as "100 out of 10", and writhed in pain as I obtained her medical history. Her pain was generalized -- she couldn't verbalize a specific part or region that aggravated her. Her husband held her hand, and interjected responses designed to guide my decision making. She needed pain medication, he said. Surely I understood. Marla looked at her husband before answering my questions.
I observed their interaction as I listened to her tachycardic heartbeat. Her husband was agitated, and rambled about getting rich from filing million-dollar lawsuits against the hospital. They had visited numerous emergency departments in the area, and one one understood their predicament. She was hesitant. Was she afraid of him?
Gut feelings are hardly admissible as objective medical findings or evidence in a courtroom, but I was suspicious of Marla's husband. I examined her carefully, searching not only for the source of her pain, but for signs of domestic violence. Her abdomen could be concealing a pregnancy or inflamed appendix, but could also hold welts. Her eyes may have the recession of dehydration or the pallor of anemia, but may also reveal the jaundice of healing bruises. Her bare arms were tattooed, but may have also been burned by cigarettes. I found nothing.
Marla's husband grew impatient. He yelled in my face, demanding a prescription for Dilaudid to relieve his wife's pain. She flinched as he raised his voice. Was he using her to obtain narcotics? Did he force her to come to the ED?
I escorted her to the restroom with a specimen cup. Before she shut the door, I whispered the SAFE screen. Did she feel Safe in her relationship? Had her husband ever threatened or Abused her? Would her Friends or Family know if she were hurt by him? Did she have an Emergency plan? Her responses centered around the supportive nature of her relationship. She told me she would have never survived without his support. Her eyes were dull, but she begged me to believe her witness.
Still, I wasn't convinced. Were my suspicions valid? Perhaps my reaction was transference from my prior violent relationship, and I identified with Marla. Perhaps I was searching for the real reason for her vague symptoms and intense pain. Should I refer her to the police? A social worker? What would I say to them? I had no evidence to support my suspicions. I also had no evidence to support a prescription for narcotics.
I watched as they left the hospital, arm in arm, commiserating about the unfeeling doc who wouldn't give her Dilaudid.