However, if they have the expectation that they are going to be tossing back of the hair, thrusting out their impossibly perky breasts, and giving a come and get me to smile as they fall into the supply closet to have jungle sex with a super hot resident they are going to be sorely disappointed.
Tell nurse, “I had a heck of a time getting the central line into that poor guy, this afternoon. Finally got it and he thanked me by barfing on my new navy pumps, ruining them. Navy is so hard to find. Sigh.” She commiserates.
Admit a couple more patients. The hospitalist’s usual fascinating triad of diagnoses,-soft call chest pain, alcohol withdrawal, nursing home placement.
Deal with a patient that is withdrawing from drugs in four-point restraints who is calling me a bitch. (Sir, puh-leeze, show some respect, that’s Dr. Bitch, to you.) Do not feel the urge to thrust out impossibly perky breasts.
Day old, mascara is making my eyes feel gritty. If I rub my eyes it will only get worse. I can’t see patients looking like a half-blind psychotic raccoon.