solitaire

am blogging soundtrack: Wilco (the album)
am blogging sustenance: latte number 3

Back on nights and not loving it. Tonight has been steady with admissions and cross-cover issues. No where near overwhelming. Lots of critical care time (so making some money) which normally I'm a fan of. Not too much crazy social stuff. Also usually a good call indicator. But I'm just not feeling it. Not at all. I cannot even begin to explain how much I would rather be at home in my bed.

Had a kind of ridiculous work weekend. Usually we have 4-5 rounders to cover the weekend. As opposed to the 6-7 people we have seeing patients during the week. We typically have a smaller total number of patients that need to be seen over the weekend because we don't see all our consults. But we usually see more patients per rounder secondary to the fewer people covering the weekend. I was the Friday call person and usually this is a set up for a (relatively) nice weekend. Saturday and Sunday calls can be brutal. Had a decent Saturday. Was expecting a pretty quick Sunday. Not so much. Please, if you will, see below.

0545: out of bed to shower, not a happy girl

0620: called by Sunday call person who reported profuse nausea/vomiting
0635: arrived in office to find said call person prostrate on the floor
0645: tucked call person into call room bed with strict instructions not to get up
0658: started to receive cross cover on call person's phone that I had placed on my person
0725: called on phone by unnamed surgical resident with the subsequent conversation:

usr: You know your partner with the blond hair who's supposed to be on call?
me: Yes.
usr: She just puked all over the floor in 4WICU. They're taking her to the ER.
me: Crap.
usr: Yeah. She wants you to call her husband and some guy named Bob.
me: Huh.

0735: confirmed above story by locating call person in room B16 in the BUMC ED
0739: called call person's husband as instructed, did not call Bob
0740: called T, had a little mutual freak out over the phone regarding plan of attack
0745: over the freak out, still not a happy girl

0746 to 1815: hauled serious ass all over the hospital, lost 1.3 pounds

1902: had first beer of the evening with A at neighborhood pub, happy

Horrible work day, amazing play night:)

But, seriously? T and I were total rock stars Sunday. There is absolutely no way that I could've gotten through that day without her. I just love me some Tara Goodwin:)

Still not loving nights.