Guy comes up to the desk and asks our permission to bring his friend out of the car and into the ER. After being assured that we were okay with that, Guy walks Out-Of-It-Looking Kid up to the chair. Guy tells us that his 20-something year old friend took a bunch of Tylenol and was now asking funny. Triage nurse asks the Kid for the number of pills, and is told "a bunch." Five pills? Fifty? "I don't remember." Was he trying to hurt himself? "I don't feel good."
Then, it started to get weird.
After several minutes of questioning interrupted by the occasional vomiting, we learned that the Kid was visiting the Guy from California, and that he had taken the pills sometime in the early evening. Guy came home from work around 2130, but didn't bring the Kid in until 0130. Guy claimed to know nothing about the Kid's background, had no idea how many Tylenol were in the house, and didn't have any contact information for the Kid's family. As soon as we wheeled over a stretcher, the Guy disappeared. I stayed late enough to see that the Kid's acetaminophen level was through the roof, but not long enough to see the friend return.
Now, something tells me that we didn't get the full story on this one.