Lockjaw would make it worse, come to think of it

So, my day.

It started badly.

And then it just kept getting worse.

Here's the most photogenic manifestation. This was about the third bad event of the morning.


I did this in the shower (toe vs faucet). While bleeding all down the other leg from a giant razor nick. Note the flap of skin on the medial surface of my big toe that's just been tacked down with a little purple band-aid all day. It probably could've handled a little stitch or two. And I probably could use an update on my tetanus shot, frankly (I'm right at the cusp). But no, I slapped on said little purple band-aid and just went the hell to work. Screw my lucrative career as a foot model!

Needless to say, between this and all of the falling off of my new bike that I did yesterday (21 gears and I can't find the one that will get me up a fucking hill), I did not walk to work today.

I had two clinics today (morning and afternoon). They were both full. Everyone showed up. The first patient in each clinic needed to be admitted. My very first patient of the day, whom, again, I had to admit, had to be escorted down to the ER by the police because he was scaring the attending. And then his mother yelled at me for lacking "human kindness" (he's in his 50s). After I bent over backwards being all soothing and empathetic and nice.

You want to see bitch? Because I can pull out bitch at any moment, old lady, just keep pushing.

Yes, yes, I totally understand she was stressed and upset. Which is why I just smiled and ignored the comment and kept up the soothing-empathetic-nice routine.

See? This is why I sometimes forget I'm allowed to feel stuff.

Because I already wasn't doing so hot when I got to work.

So, he gets escorted off by a man with a gun. I apologized profusely to my 9am patient. Thank GOD my 10am called and cancelled because he was stuck at the beach with his roommate. My 11? Came late and then took until 12:45.

Which meant I got to my 12pm committee meeting at 12:50. By when, thankfully, it was over, because I still had to eat.

I inhaled my lunch between 12:59 and 1:02.

No really, I looked at the clock.

My 1:00 comes in, looks like crap, is all depressed, I say, "do you think you need to be in the hospital?" She comes all unglued and is like, "yes, but I didn't think I could tell you." So, in comes #2. And while I'm admitting her (which is not a short process, but, on a full clinic day, it gets broken up a lot), my pager goes off.

One of my therapy patients is in the ER, having unintentionally overdosed on meds he stole from his mother. I went down to talk to him, and he didn't even respond to a sternal rub (for those of you who don't know what that means, drag your knuckles up and down your breastbone a couple of times. Now imagine me doing that like I mean it. Yeah, ouch). This later involved two...no, wait, four conversations with the ER resident and one with the on-call intern tonight about why this kid needed to be admitted. Now. And we'll put him in a bed when we have one. No, I don't care if he's all calm and awake now, he's coming in. COMING IN. BECAUSE I SAID SO, STOP ARGUING.

Damn passive-aggressive pediatricians. Say they'll admit him and then try to discharge him behind my back....

I'm just sayin'.

And, in case you were wondering, I JUST finished writing his H&P. At, like 10:15 pm.

I also had just a difficult couple of patients this afternoon. None of whom compared to the rest of the company, but, nonetheless.

And I don't like my socks that I just knitted. Or the other ones.

And I'm not even going to go into the biggest cranky-pants-inducing stuff that was making my day so bad. Because that lives in my head and needs to not be unleashed on the outside world.

Oh, my word, I'm so cranky....

At least? Tomorrow will be better. Because there aren't a lot of other directions in which it can go....