I had the misfortune -- which is happening more and more these days -- of accompanying a loved one at the emergency room.
Usually when we're there we're in a private little room where there's very little activity. Today we were in the main room, where everything's separated by flimsy, moving curtains, and quarters are tighter.
All the time, in all these visits, they ask your pain on the scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the worst possible. Sometimes it's 10, sometimes 9, sometimes 8, etc., meaning this is supposed to mean something -- and of course it does in ballpark figures. For instance, a 1 is objectively different from a 10, but a 9 is not objectively different from a 10, at least in the knowledge between people; perhaps it is to the person feeling it.
A doctor came in and asked the pain level, and she says not too bad, a 6. The doctor says a 6 is pretty bad. Right there we have all the evidence we need that the number doesn't mean anything definite. I said something to him about it and he didn't just laugh it off as an obvious conclusion, and instead said, "It means something to me." Yeah, it means you don't know any more about it now than before you asked. Or you wouldn't have argued with what the patient said.
