Baby Me and You’ll Be Peeing Through a Catheter
Ah, New Years, a.k.a Amateur Drunk Night. Every bozo that hardly touches a drop all year gets plastered, and either comes in bleeding due to a fight, bleeding due to a knife-related incident after “trying to make a sandwich” at 0200, or puking his/her guts up.
Just remember, gentlemen, you can swear at me all you want while I’m irrigating your head wound, checking your pupils or ordering your anti-emetics, but don’t call me Baby. Bitch is fine*, I’m good with Ma’am, or, hell, Doctor’s ok if you get confused, but no Baby. I’m not your Baby. Your Baby dropped you off at the front door after you puked all over the floorboard of her car, and if we’re both very lucky she’ll come back and get you when you’re released in a few hours. In the meantime, lie back and behave yourself, and let the miracle IV fluids and Zofran do their thing.
*(We’re contractually obligated to be called Bitch at least once a month, to maintain our ER status. Failure to do so may result in being reassigned to the recovery room or possibly <cue creepy music here> the clinic. Shudder.)
January 11, 2011 at 10:02 am
My sister-in-law is an ER nurse, and she worked NYE as well. She had one set of extra scrubs in her locker, but had to call my brother at 11:00 to bring her ANOTHER pair…something about lots of blood and lots of vomit. Shudder.
Glad you survived.