the adventures of a veteran nurse in an inner city ER
Thursday, June 09, 2011
It wasn't me, it was my evil twin
I have an evil twin. The evil twin comes out of the patients room and grumbles to herself, using words like "idiot, moron, fool". My evil twin has to keep herself from dozing off as you drone on about your myriad of problems. My evil twin talks trash about you to her co-workers. My evil twin silently shouts "whadda think of that sucker!" when she gets an IV after you said no one can ever get one. My evil twin thinks you should be able to find your own way home....you don' need no bus token or cab voucher...you found your way here - now follow the yellow brick road back home Dorothy. My evil twin doesn't want to hear a history of all your medical problems going back to that traumatic experience in Haight-Ashbury in 1968. My evil twin doesn't want to hear that you are sorry that you peed all over the floor. I'm sorry too. My evil twin thinks you are nuts if you have more than three allergies in three different categories. My evil twin feels sorry for the nurse upstairs who has to take care of you for 8 or 12 hours, but is glad it isn't her. My evil twin knows you are on something so don't bullshit her. Remember she's evil. Never forget she's evil. Remember she has the sharp objects.