It was during my freshman year I got out of the shower in my dorm and realized that my friend had called my cell phone several times. Perplexed, I called back, and the sound of intense relief in his voice was immediately evident. Another friend, it seemed, had overdosed on a substance completely foreign to us (and he wasn’t telling what, because he was in absolutely no state to do so). Because I was the only one he knew with a car on the campus, he asked me if I could get over there right away to take our friend to the nearest hospital. I did so willingly, but not without a sense of nagging worry and fear.
On my way there, I called back and asked if he had checked with the University Health Center to see if they could help. He angrily replied that they were closed and their answering machine gave no useful information. He couldn’t call 911 either – he was afraid for our friend’s privacy and the potential ramifications of being caught abusing an illegal substance. Even finding out which hospital to go to was not easy – the community assistant at the desk of his dorm had told him that Laurel Regional Hospital was closest, but as a Laurel native, I knew this information to be completely false.
Finally, I arrived at his dorm and picked up our friend to head to Doctors Community Hospital on Good Luck Road in Lanham. As he was convulsing in my back seat, I kept thinking to myself, “There must be a better solution than this.” And I’m sure this situation was neither the first nor the last emergency on the campus to be solved by panicky freshmen. I was angry at the university for leaving students high and dry with nothing but the intimidating options of University Police and 911 to turn to.
As mentioned in last Thursday’s article, “Health Center offers late-night advice,” the Health Center is no longer open 24 hours a day due to budget cuts. Though the introduction of NurseLine – a new after-hours service that offers advice to students – is comforting, there is still much to be upset about.
The most glaring problem with this new service is that it is not much help to students in emergencies. Sure, the hotline can help determine whether the situation is an emergency or not, but beyond just the fact that we can spot an emergency situation ourselves, the trouble is not in identifying these situations as much as it is in getting immediate primary treatment for them. And even if I were told by NurseLine that the situation was not an emergency, I would still be uneasy if anyone I knew seemed to be in trouble and wanted to see a medical professional right away.
Considering all this, NurseLine is a step in the right direction, but still not even close to a sufficient late-night health care option. Budget cuts or not, student safety should always be a top priority at any university. Instead of spending $9,000 on a gigantic strawberry shortcake to celebrate our 150th anniversary and $30,000 for police Segways that have hardly been seen since last semester, how about having the university channel that money into something useful? There is money out there, but even if there weren’t, nothing should be more important than the health and safety of students. Take the money from somewhere – anywhere – else, and put it toward providing students with a convenient, quick emergency health care option.
Many undergraduates do not have access to a vehicle on the campus, and calling 911 is not the way they would like to resolve many emergency medical situations. We should not have to drive or take an ambulance 15 minutes away when we could have that care located in the middle of the campus. If we think there really is no money for 24-hour health care on the campus, I suggest we rethink our priorities.
Megan Maizel is a sophomore American studies and philosophy major. She can be reached at mmaizel@umd.edu.
