Poo and Dog Bites
Hello Loved Ones,
I was originally preparing for another ranting monologue about 18hour days and the emotional pain of perpetual stupidity, but I think all of that (including the 100 or so boring constipated people I’ve seen in the last couple days) takes a backseat to the following anecdote: Also, it is a relatively short story and I (having just returned from the hosp) am not long for this world.
Tonight I was in the emerg department looking at hard, poo-filled bellies. My boss stopped by, but had dinner plans with some friends he hadn’t seen in a very long time, so he left me with the last poo lady, and told me to page him with the dets. It took me a while, but I got her story, called him up and told him I thought she needed to be admitted for a possible bowel obstruction. He agreed that she should be admitted, but said he thought she might have diverticulitis of the right colon. WTF? This guy is a diagnostic machine. I had barely relayed any information. I scoffed in my head and thought he was out to lunch. After all, I’d seen the xray.
Twenty minutes after I hung up the phone, the patient in question had a humungous bowel movement. Actually, she shat the bed big time. Obviously, not a bowel obstruction – probably diverticulitis! Fuuuukkkkkk. I try so hard! I want my boss to like me and think I am smart. Just to make things worse I think I forgot the pink consult sheets that he needs in order to be paid somewhere in the ED. I hope to Christ I can track them down tomorrow morning…..
Anyway, I’ve digressed. My boss said to admit the patient and told me what orders he wanted on the chart. He said that after I was done with “le paper work”, I could go home and he would come in later tonight and co-sign. Fair enough.
However, as I was wrapping up my business, a man came in with his right nard fully hanging out of his scrotum, precariously dangling in mid air. His penis was also in fairly rough shape. Despite the fact that I am not currently doing an emerge rotation, I could not help but implicate myself in this case.
According to the patient, his son’s dog bit the nard off for no reason. I found the man’s story, and his demeanor, suspicious. The facts, and some of the evidence, did not add up. Nevertheless, whatever the dickens this man was up to tonight, he definitely paid the price. I thought he was gonna punch me in the face as I began injecting 10cc’s of Xylocaine directly into his purple, shredded ball sack! The pain must've been unreal. I was as gentle as possible, but he was screaming. Poor fucker. I left before the stitching started. Even busted testicles couldn’t keep me from my flannel heaven right now.
Goodnight - T
ps - good luck to Pesto and Shakes the Cat who will be taking part in the full and half marathons respectively tomorrow!