A week ago I was trying to get an x-ray of my injured leg. ER implies 'emergency', meaning rapid response and things like that. Instead I was given a bracelet and was shown to a seat in the waiting room. During next four hours, before I finally gave up, I observed how the waiting room was actually used as a sort of living room by the smartest among local homeless population. Room is heated, it has a water fountain, bathrooms, pay-phones, and a TV set.
All announcements are bilingual.
I don't even know why they bothered to write the English part. After three hours I started whining, but right at that moment two young women came by. One was shaking. Her mother was just brought in in cardiac arrest. Which is probably even worse than in Emergency Rooms in former Yugoslavia.