Another day, and I finally got paid. Which means a least my bank manager's cortisol levels will have settled a bit. Shroom lost his happy hat this weekend; having shelled out more cash than is entirely decent to have my Italian penis-extension super car serviced, the bastard broke down the next day. Another evening spent constructively swearing, and wishing Ma Shroom had taught me a few more Gaelic curses to throw at Alfa. Still, it is entirely my own fault for favouring style over substance.
Today has found me at work on All Hallow's Eve, which has least spared me the mind numbingly tedious rites of passage that is delinquent trick or treating... not that I'm a killjoy, or anything, but I fully expect to return and find Shroom Manor defaced with eggs/faeces/sacrificed goats, etc. One of my colleagues has made the effort of dressing up, with a fake knife through his head, and dark green lipstick. I'm slightly worried that many of the patients won't realise the significance, and will just end up 'tut-tuting' about how dress code standards have fallen.
The night has, so far, passed relatively without incident. Things have picked up a bit just now with the arrival of a few lads who have decided to celebrate Tuesday with a lager fuelled punch up. What I always enjoy about these occasions is that they invariably think the ED is a suitable place to continue their pugilistic endeavours. Security for us is usually provided by men and women more suited to less physical pastimes, so it's agreat chance to practice diplomacy... if your that way inclined. At least no-one seems to have been badly hurt.
Our one serious case today was a youngish man having a heart attack. Despite having been rapidly and appropriately thrombolised in the field by the Paramedics, his symptoms were not improving in the ED. I could almost hear my sphincter tightening as ECG after ECG demonstrated persistant, extensive ST elevation. And he was slowly turning grey (regular listeners know how I feel about grey...) To spice things up yet further, his ailing heart began throwing increasingly frequent ectopics into the mix, and he developed haemoptysis. Fortunately, with a great moan of relief, his pain settled, and his ST segments began to normalise. Another case of masterful inactivity getting results
Lastly, for those of you still with me, my mental state seems to be on the up. I'm not sure if this is just because I'm at work... sad, but true, but being at work almost cheers me up. I guess this is because it represents a (relatively) controlled environment for me, with managable problems. Regardless of cause, I'll take it.
Ah well... back to the floor.
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