avoid being stuck by Dr. M twice
11:00 arrive on 6th floor where Dr. D is telling Dr. M the story about a patient from last night. It is my third time. Maybe I should tell it?
Dr M. begins to yawn (perfunctory gesture at covering his mouth)
I cover my mouth.
Is Dr. M really listening to Dr. D’s story? He’s looking at him.
I decide to start writing this diary.
GO get labs on Mrs. H!
I am heading to the nearest unoccupied computer or at least—away.
11:30 – 1:30 round
30 minutes in one patient’s room.
Note BMW keys on keychain of patient’s daughter. GTE cellular. Three get well cards. Paper lunch menu with some of the boxes checked in. The room is slightly triangular for non-artistic reasons. The window curtain is pulled half-shut. Unimpressive view of another hospital building. This room doesn’t smell as bad as it should. The liquid in the vacu-tainer is a perfect green, about 600, maybe 650 cc’s. It’s hard to say exactly.
12:45 My foot is starting to fall asleep.
12:48 My foot is definitely asleep.
I decide to start writing this diary, on the back of some patient note cards.
Outside the room, Dr. M and Dr. C have been cracking each other up.
Could Dr. M really have a personality?
If I spend the rest of my life here,
I won’t need any of my things anymore.
I begin to make out a will on the back of some patient note cards.
I must now say, in case this diary is the last chance I will ever get. Bob Costas is really alright.
Owning the surgical instruments,
He owns the shit in his bowel.
Standing / Cramping / They teach us so much.
He pauses as if he is about to say something teachatory. Yes? Yes?
Where’s that chart for Mrs. K’s? Maybe one of the nurses has it.