Well! That hasn't happened in a while!

Today a patient grabbed and shook me as a terrier might shake a rat. Although I am, in my own opinion, prettier than most rats, and most terriers I've met--Jack Russells included--are saner than this guy was. Baseline asshole, cray-cray secondary to Versed. I put the flat of my hand on his chest, pushed him back, and hissed "Lie the fuck down and shut the fuck up and don't do that again, asshole" as the surgeon behind me went wide-eyed and silent.

It had already been a long forty-five minutes. I'd discharged all of the patients from the neuro CCU, so I was down in surgical CCU to help out. Five minutes after I walked in, a patient came rolling up from surgery, having had something complex done to a carotid artery. We were all settling her in--the Mankiller, the Manhandler, and I--when something odd made her monitor go "bonk bonk beeeeeeeep." I figured it was me, since I was futzing with the cords and unplugging things, until I heard people in my immediate vicinity shouting the patient's name.

Oh.

God, I hate it when that happens.

Shortly after that, CrazyPants rolled in, and so I was tasked with calming down a shouting, punching, shaking patient who'd just had a throat resection.

Right now I've got something obscenely cheesy baking in the oven and I am drinking white wine. My sister sent a hand-me-down in the shape of a gorgeous blue-green dress that I was born to wear, and a cute little hand-knitted uterus with Fallopian tubes. I am going to watch Dr. Who again until my head explodes and then check my upper arms for bruises.