twenty-seven patients!!
that was a lot, even for geriatrics... but we're talking about ED here. shift started with a stack of patients yet to be seen. all the triage sheets nicely snug in their plastic little covers formed quite an impressive pile nearly half a foot high.
talk about starting the shift on the right foot...
and then we had two resuscitations, both of which i wasn't involved with. phew.
pooped, dead tired. especially since i was running on the normal body clock over the weekend and i only had one night to flip into night shift body clock mode. let's just say that my head was throbbing and i felt nauseous by around 3.30am this morning in the middle of my shift.
just had to gripe. twenty-seven waiting to be seen!! man, can't get over that just yet.
ooh, speaking of things i can't get over...
some arrogant prick hung a piece of paper saying "RESERVED PARKING," highlighted it and slipped it in a plastic sleep before twisting metal ties to A's cage in her parking lot. we both saw it, shrugged it off. next day, we were off to the conference (which was awesome - road trips, wineries, good food, some education to span the weekend!) bright and early and what did we find? a little blue piece of paper telling me not to park in this spot. not even a please, if i remember correctly. wtf. who in the world had such gall?? that particular twat, obviously. it wasn't as if the person could mistaken A's parking space as being unoccupied. the cage where the note was attached to was full of empty boxes stacked to the brim! seriously, i can't get over the gall of the person. gall? arrogance? plain stupidity? can't quite place my finger on the right word to go with the emotion. seriously though, to claim someone else's parking spot so brazenly.. wtf?!
the number of idiots in this world... they need to start encouraging more recipients of the darwinian awards.
10.14.2008
10.07.2008
the deepest shade of red you can imagine.. and then some
i can't imagine how awful i feel. awfully embarrased but also just generally a sick kind of awful. must be some perverse twisted bit of me somewhere inside or else why would i be sharing with anyone something so embarrassingly awful that it's funny in a sad sort of way?
*takes a deep breath*
and so, my confession begins.
i was relaxed today. a rarity nowadays. it was my allocated day off from work. they forced me to take the day off but pay me, just so they could make up my total hours to satisfy the week's quota. not that i'm complaining. anyway, i digress.
so i come home today after running the usual errands.. bank, post office, groceries, fixing up the house and the obligatory visit to ikea. bag galore. a malte to boot. couldn't wait to put it together. put it together i did and it now proudly acts as a sidetable for my keys and knick knacks.
spent the afternoon putting up wall decals, trying to tidy up the boxes and such. then came the knocking.
at first, i thought they got the wrong apartment. i've done that. the elevator took me one floor too high. i got off, as it was the first stop and the lady with me lived on the floor above. i walked to the door and realized the key didn't fit. only then, did i notice that the apt number was 100 more than mine. oops.
so yeah, it happens. i thought someone was just as absentminded as me. thought they got the wrong door. they had a gaggle of children in the background. now why would i have a class of kiddies visiting me? surely they must have the wrong door. so i ignored them. yes, i'm very anti-social. for those that don't know yet, i refuse to answer the door if i'm not expecting you.
let's put it this way... i don't know what's worse - to yell out "who's there?" in a wimpy female voice and have the person on the other side figure out i'm all alone, or to ignore the person on the other side of the door and have them think nobody's home. i'm for the second option - they have their imagination to deal with - as far as they know, a football team could be living in my apt but if i open my mouth, it'll be a giveaway that i'm most likely alone. not very safe.
so i digress again. the knocking goes on all afternoon. every hour or so. quite regular. reminds me of the stories i've heard of how burglars figure out who's home or not. so i try not to think about it. after all, the sun was still out. everything seems less scary in the daytime. the knocking finally stops and i call A to validate my runaway thoughts of scary burly burglars and such. then the intercom started to ring. so now i'm a tad worried. the sun's gone down, the knocking hasn't stopped.
i'm still loathe to call out in my wimpy, now scared girly voice "who's there and what do you want?" the sentence is too long. so i talk to hG who suggests calling security. d'oh! why didn't i think of that! so call security i did. a nice fellow called matthew answered. he reassured me, gave me some advice, said he'd check it out. no news. the knocking came again. it was now around 10.30pm. now, my runaway thoughts have really gone galactic. i call matthew the security guard again. he promised to announce himself at my door next time he does a circuit.
to cut things short, i found a piece of paper scrunched up and shoved under my door but because i had a draft stopper, i never heard nor saw the paper until i opened the door. i've never been so embarrassed in a very very long while as i read a scrawled message saying "please call your next door neighbour. N - 04******** i have your keys. you forgote them in the door"
...
like i said.. i've never been more embarrassed.
on the bright side, i now have my contingency plan in place. one that i should've done long ago much akin to the charlestown one when we didn't have water or power for a few days. i've now got the local police number scrawled in ink and programmed in my phone. i've got a whole list of phone numbers of people i trust + people nearby whom i can dial out to in case anything happens. a tad paranoid, you say? i suppose so but this is what comes from living alone for all these years. a girl kinda gets a tad edgy. hmm. i should just shush now.
*takes a deep breath*
and so, my confession begins.
i was relaxed today. a rarity nowadays. it was my allocated day off from work. they forced me to take the day off but pay me, just so they could make up my total hours to satisfy the week's quota. not that i'm complaining. anyway, i digress.
so i come home today after running the usual errands.. bank, post office, groceries, fixing up the house and the obligatory visit to ikea. bag galore. a malte to boot. couldn't wait to put it together. put it together i did and it now proudly acts as a sidetable for my keys and knick knacks.
spent the afternoon putting up wall decals, trying to tidy up the boxes and such. then came the knocking.
at first, i thought they got the wrong apartment. i've done that. the elevator took me one floor too high. i got off, as it was the first stop and the lady with me lived on the floor above. i walked to the door and realized the key didn't fit. only then, did i notice that the apt number was 100 more than mine. oops.
so yeah, it happens. i thought someone was just as absentminded as me. thought they got the wrong door. they had a gaggle of children in the background. now why would i have a class of kiddies visiting me? surely they must have the wrong door. so i ignored them. yes, i'm very anti-social. for those that don't know yet, i refuse to answer the door if i'm not expecting you.
let's put it this way... i don't know what's worse - to yell out "who's there?" in a wimpy female voice and have the person on the other side figure out i'm all alone, or to ignore the person on the other side of the door and have them think nobody's home. i'm for the second option - they have their imagination to deal with - as far as they know, a football team could be living in my apt but if i open my mouth, it'll be a giveaway that i'm most likely alone. not very safe.
so i digress again. the knocking goes on all afternoon. every hour or so. quite regular. reminds me of the stories i've heard of how burglars figure out who's home or not. so i try not to think about it. after all, the sun was still out. everything seems less scary in the daytime. the knocking finally stops and i call A to validate my runaway thoughts of scary burly burglars and such. then the intercom started to ring. so now i'm a tad worried. the sun's gone down, the knocking hasn't stopped.
i'm still loathe to call out in my wimpy, now scared girly voice "who's there and what do you want?" the sentence is too long. so i talk to hG who suggests calling security. d'oh! why didn't i think of that! so call security i did. a nice fellow called matthew answered. he reassured me, gave me some advice, said he'd check it out. no news. the knocking came again. it was now around 10.30pm. now, my runaway thoughts have really gone galactic. i call matthew the security guard again. he promised to announce himself at my door next time he does a circuit.
to cut things short, i found a piece of paper scrunched up and shoved under my door but because i had a draft stopper, i never heard nor saw the paper until i opened the door. i've never been so embarrassed in a very very long while as i read a scrawled message saying "please call your next door neighbour. N - 04******** i have your keys. you forgote them in the door"
...
like i said.. i've never been more embarrassed.
on the bright side, i now have my contingency plan in place. one that i should've done long ago much akin to the charlestown one when we didn't have water or power for a few days. i've now got the local police number scrawled in ink and programmed in my phone. i've got a whole list of phone numbers of people i trust + people nearby whom i can dial out to in case anything happens. a tad paranoid, you say? i suppose so but this is what comes from living alone for all these years. a girl kinda gets a tad edgy. hmm. i should just shush now.
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