here's an excuse for shopping at victoria's secret

Just worked five twelves in a row, and the freaks really do come out during the full moon. So do the gardening injuries, the drunk drivers, the broken arms (5 sugar tong splints in two days!! Geez!!), the heart patients, and the stroke victims. Had two brain tumors diagnosed in the ER that night. My favorite nurse looked at me, waggled his eyebrows, and said, "see, firefighter girl? Nurses can put in 18g IVs, too." I told him I woulda shot a 16.
It's somewhat sobering to see these patients in the ICU a couple of days later, though, knocked out from propofol, tubes in every orifice. Particularly when you saw them talking, or trying to talk, 48 hours earlier.
We had one woman who had been in an MVA earlier in the day. Medics got called to her home; they boarded her just to get her out, since she could barely walk. Doc cleared her C-spine, and he and I rolled her up on her side with the standard "give yourself a hug!" Apparently, my eyes widened rather comically when she flailed her arms around and one of her hands landed square on my tuckus and then held on for dear life, because Doc started laughing. However, her hand remained, and Doc took it upon himself to ask her if she had developed a fondness for me. She released her iron grip, patted my butt, and apologized. I have a feeling I'll be hearing about that one for a while.
Was having one of those days. You know. Where everything you pick up, you fumble, or drop; when the saline flush falls out of the lock right before you set the IV; when tape sticks to your gloved fingers, when the velcro on the knee immobilizer attaches to everything but what it's supposed to, when the underwire on your favorite bra snaps right at the curve, and you suddenly feel a sharp pain and an amazing lack of support. Then you get home, try to read before falling into a dead sleep, and your glasses snap right at the bridge. Seems like a sign. You know. Like maybe it's time for a little R and R.