Suddenly.

Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste
It all revolves around you

- Satine & Christian, Moulin Rouge

What's the wards like? asked a well meaning friend.

Well, it goes something like this.

1. Arrive on the wards early at about 8a.m. and pick up patient list.
2. Sit down and then figure out I need to see discharges today.
3. Head to the patient board and mark off discharges.
4. Figure out that, oh yeah, I can see him/her later, no worries.
5. Figure out who to see first.
6. See first patient of the day.
7. Finish with first patient of the day.
8. Sit down to write notes for first patient of the day.
9. Nurse requests patient to be seen by a physio because "the doctor thinks s/he's chesty" or "S/he seems unstable."
10. See requested patient.
11. Finish with requested patient.
12. Come back to write first patient's notes.
13. Find that they're missing. Someone's taken them!
14. Run around office speaking in a loud but calm voice, "Has anyone seen Mr/Mrs X's notes?"
15. Finally find them tucked in under discharges. They're discharged???
16. Re-visit first patient and make sure safe for discharge.
17. Pager beeps.
18. See next patient.
19. Finish with next patient in record time.
20. Sit down and write patient's notes. Finish in record time.
21. Morning tea.
22. Panic that I've only seen 2 patients and half the morning is gone.
23. Back to wards. Try and find next patient's notes.
24. Finally find next patient's notes. Read and note important bla de bla.
25. Go and see patient.
26. Patient in toilet/shower/X-ray/ICU/dead/discharged.
27. Seethe about not being able to see patient because of above reasons.
28. Next patient.
29. Have to find nurse for the next patient.
30. Finds nurse. Nurse on morning tea break.
31. Goes and treats next patient.
32. Goes back to find nurse. Nurse is busy/gone home/dead/discharged.
33. Seethe about incompetence of staff.
34. Lunch.
35. Back to wards. Patients more co-operative. Probably the chemicals in the food.
36. Treat treat treat. Notes notes notes.
37. Run around with crutches, frames, strollers that I look like a man trapped in metal scaffolding. Lucky I've not been apprehended for escaping from the psyche unit.
38. Pager beeps.
39. Check pager.
40. Ring back number on pager. Why has the physio NOT gone to ICU yet?
41. Panic about ICU.
42. Ring other physio.
43. Other physio reassures and says that she's done it. Hyperventilates for a few more minutes to achieve lack of carbon dioxide and associated high.
44. Finish.
45. Chuck pager on table and forget about work.
46. Come back.
47. Cook two dinners that will be downed in quick succession.
48. Sit down and rot in front of the tv for 2 hours.
49. Shower.
50. Bed.

As you can probably tell, I've got a busy day.

Another thing you can probably tell, instead of alcohol that I down in neat shot glasses full of whiskey, I eat enough dinner for a pregnant elephant. Wait, make that TWO elephants.

I'm also near my all time high weight of 74kgs. Last year, I hit 75kgs after 3 months of consistent gym and constant protein shakes.

Last thing, I really should check my pager more often.

And oh, the friend who asked that question? He died of boredom and flew to Heaven. Either that or he sneaked out and drove away really quickly while I was ranting about how the nurse disappeared on me. I was wondering what that loud revving sound was.

The Pharmacist and I were discussing about one of my department's colleagues who saunters, no, she strolls around the wards. And we were both wondering whether she had found a little peace fountain in within the busyness of the wards and the departments or else she had found her nirvana.

If she's smoking pot, I want some.

The end.