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613526362 · 7 years

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I was just sitting. And then I started crying. And then I started kind of grunting and acting like I was going to fight the air. I've been totally blown the last 48 hours. I don't even remember how long ago my last shift was. I just remember these bullshit fries fucked me up bad. I told fucking Fuckeria that this restaurant got 2/5 stars so why the fuck are we ordering from it. She didn't seem to get it. I swear to god I have Hepatitis A and E now. I feel really weak, but I don't know how much of it is psychological. These shifts do affect me. They do. But it's hard to tell exactly how. I fucked up and scheduled three shifts in a week the week after step. But I'll never do more than two shifts in a week after that. I can't. I can't. Let's start. I walk up to him. God he must be two feet taller than me. I'm so glad they hire security guards based on are you huge and black here. He's reaching out a hand to me, but before I do, I reach my free hand out and grab the badge on the lanyard on his shirt, turning it around so I can see your credentials. "You work here, right?" I say. He laughs, then I hand the bag of weed to him in my gloved hand. This is the second time tonight I had to go searching for the security supervisor to hand over a large bag of marijuana. The first time was much worse, because the bag was much bigger, and I had to walk out in the patient waiting room, where some of the dudes made some comments and looked at me like they'd like to maybe roll me over real quick and decide their ailment was healed (Jesus) and head out with the weed bag I was sporting. I mean, I don't know weed values. But based on the looks on their face. I was holding a fucking Maserati. Redacted It was a bad night, the second night. Real bad. I was completely, utterly exhausted seven hours into the 12 hour shift. That's the main thing I don't like about this job. No eight hour shifts anymore. I got blood on my scrubs. But that's why I paid $30 for a custom screen print t shirt with my hospital's logo - so I could take off my scrub top if necessary and still be in uniform!!! (Dweeby white dude smile real big type of intonation) So I took my top off and the blood had soaked through to my undershirt. Obvious. Red. Blood. On my fucking expensive custom made organic cotton t shirt. So I put a patient label over the bloody streak and walked around with a patient's date of birth and ID number stuck to my shirt for a while. Looked better than the blood. I was doing some point of care at some point on a trauma, and I heard one deputy walk by another and casually ask, "What's the call so far?" The deputy sitting watching over some patient in custody casually replied, "Just 10 civilians so far." I had to think about that. Then it really hit me. Holy fuck. They're discussing how bad of a night it is. And, Either 1. It's not a bad night because only 10 people got shot Or 2. It's not a bad night because only "civilians" (meaning not law enforcement) have been shot Or 1 and 2? Well 7 of those motherfuckers showed up to Mog ER. I took five of them since I was assigned trauma side. I don't remember if the stab to the neck and hand was counted in those 7. I lost count of how many I had. The upper echelon of the surgical team was down in the ER for hours. That doesn't happen often. I was with the stab victim doing something and his transexual friend or brother or whatever was in the room and I realized he'd been there for hours and looked really young and. "Do you have any parents." "Yeah." "Are they going to come visit you?" "They have to get up for work in the morning." "How old are you?" "19" I just paused, kind of just kept doing what I was doing. I didn't know what else to say. I just said, "It's The Big City." That wasn't the right thing to say. But that's what I said. Redacted The night before wasn't as bad in some ways. Not many traumas. Just this fat old dude who was just shitting blood nonstop. The smell I will never forget. Reminded me of when I was a kid and we had parvo cases in my dad's vet ER. I was watching the resident (University of I'mTheBest) try and do a central line, he couldn't even figure out what fucking needle to use and I had to explain to him that the line probably wouldn't fit through that other needle and I would need to get him a new kit. I mean, I don't fucking do central lines, but all these doctors come from fraternities and sororities and going out for late night pizza and not from medicine. They come from universities and lives of privilege and middle class and rich ass parents with swimming pools out back, and then they don't know how to use any kind of needle or any kind of catheter. Jesus. You should have gone to fucking EMT school instead of studying so hard for chemistry. Oh wait, then you wouldn't be here fucking up this central line. Then he poked himself. I mean, I couldn't make this shit up. I said, "I'll get you some new gloves and an alcohol pad, and you can clean off your hand. You're lucky he's low risk for everything. Just a nice old white man. I'm sure his liver values were fine, right?" "Yeah. But I'll go ahead and finish the procedure." "Okay man, whatever you want." I saw the blood slowly spreading out under his glove. He didn't poke himself bad, but the needles are super fucking sharp,a dn all you need to do is graze yourself. He went on and on, and couldnt get the introducer needle into the internal jugular. Finally, Dr. Staff came over. Super sharp doc. She gives these medical students hell, in a very respectful and professional way. Actually, she's uncomfortably respectful and professional. Black lady. Maybe didn't come from privilege. Actually, she probably did. The statistics say she did. She looked at what he was doing, informed him he was probably accidentally in the aorta, and then looked at his glove. Uh oh, moment of truth. "You've got blood -n your glove." Okay University of I'mGod's best, did she say "in" or "on" your glove? Does she know. "Yeah, I got things a bit bloody here. Must be in the aorta." "No, I said you've got blood IN your glove. Did you poke yourself?" Oh fuck. You fucked it man. You really fucking should have listened to the guy in the tech scrubs. Bitch. Then Dr. Staff tells the guy in the tech scrubs to hold pressure on the aorta (unbelievable, I actually wound up putting on the sterile gloves I'd brought for Resident FuckAttitude) for a minute while he left and did something else. I saw her casually inform the triage nurse we had a exposure and the resident would need labs drawn. Redacted The weirdest part of the night was when a security guard disappeared. We were all stumped. I mean DISAPPEARED. Poof. His cell phone and radio were sitting at his post. He was gone. For hours. POOF MOTHER FUCKER. I said, "Does he smoke." "Yeah he does." "Well that's it man. He went out for a smoke and got killed. He's dead." You don't go out into the jungle at night. But my explanation of things was a bit flawed in that some other security bitch who was close to the door didn't see him go out. They searched the hospital for hours looking for him. Couldn't find him. It's a big hospital. Lots of open doors. Lots of floors. An old hospital. I was about to check the roof when he turned up. Said he fell asleep on the toilet in a bathroom. Guess he was working a double shift. Anything else I need to include. Well, I guess my feelings did get a bit hurt. I walked into the room and my patient had white shit all over his nose and was sniffing and licking his hand and shit. I was like, "What the hell are you doing man. Where did you get that shit." We took all his clothes from him hours ago. No, really, where did he get that shit. I started to tell the nurse, and she was just like, "Tell the doctor." The doctor and PA came over and into the room. He'd cleaned up his face a bit better since I was last in there and tried to lie to the doctor at first, but I wasn't having it. "You had heroin man, where did you get that. You had white stuff all over your face when I came in." Then he admitted to it. I left as he explained things to the doctor. I didn't even know heroin came in powder form a few days ago. I'm learning fast though. They say it comes in little bags. They call them bags. How many bags a day do you do, they say. I guess he had a bag in his mouth for a while.

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