Monkey Bread

Today I felt like monkey bread, in that everyone wanted a little piece of me.
Or maybe like Brad Pitt in his underwear.
Or a million dollars.

Anyway- I was very busy.
We were (of course) short staffed and swamped with old people. Every holiday it's the same way.
"Grandma, what! you look so old! I can't believe you've aged in a year! When did that happen!?!"
"And Grandpa you banged your knee four weeks ago and it's bruised? Your old skin hasn't healed rapidly like my young healthy skin!?! That can't be! To the ER we must flee! With the entire family! All 50 of us."

So....when we have actual sick, DYING patients, the faux sickies (semi-sickies) get upset that they have to wait and their 50 relatives complain and argue with the million other relatives in the waiting room and the fighting spills out the front door and the police come and arrest everyone and finally - - - - there is peace.

OK it wasn't quite that bad.

At one point I was the only tech in the hospital (the other person was out to get lunch). I was in the recovery room doing post op xrays on a hip and ER called with a stat port chest on a baby. I hung up and anesthesia called for a port chest for line placement.
It was that kind of day.
Everyone wanted everything STAT.

And everything was portable and none of the patients could stand or move themselves.

Honestly, I had a really great day.
It was fun.
I love crazy.