Friday 29 November 2013

Call Gods

It seemed my last post spurred a rather interesting theological debate, so I thought I would expound on the subject just a bit.  If you've been wondering if I believe in god, yes I do - I firmly believe in the existence of the Call Gods.  The Call Gods watch over all doctors on call all over the world.  They decide what patients will come in, when, and for what reason.  You do not mess with the Call Gods.  If you ever decide you'd like to mess with the Call Gods, you DO NOT MESS WITH THE CALL GODS.  

So if any doctor on call is ever stupid enough to say, "Gee, it sure is quiet around here," the Call Gods take it upon themselves to ensure that a shitstorm of Gomorrah-like proportions will rain down on this foolish half-wit exactly 14 seconds later, only relenting when the call shift is over or the ignoramus quits his job to sell costume jewelry and counterfeit handbags on the street.  This is not the beneficent God you may think you know - the Call Gods are evil and vengeful, and they have a very twisted sense of humour.  Hmm, now that I think about it, they sound just like me.

The Call Gods do not reserve their torture for unsuspecting pinheaded nincompoops who disavow all knowledge of their existence.  No, they seem to enjoy paying particular attention to me whenever I am on call, though they are terribly uninspired when it comes to choosing patients to drop in my lap.  It seems whenever I'm on call they choose a theme for the day for me - Drunk Day, Broken Hip Day, Seizure Day, Tattooed-Nipple And Pierced-Clit Biker Day - and nearly every patient will fit this narrow profile.  For whatever reason, the Call Gods decided that one fine recent day would be Fall Day.  Everyone was falling - falling down stairs, falling off ladders, falling out of attics, falling after getting hit with a bat.  Ok, maybe that last one technically doesn't count.  Anyway, when I found out I was getting my sixth fall victim of the day already, my first thought was, "Bring it on, Call Gods!  Hit me with your best shot!"

Yes, I taunt the Call Gods.  YOU CAN'T HURT ME!  I AM INVINCIBLE!!

And hit me they did - the smell of alcohol hit me before the patient actually reached the door.  The medics told us the patient was found on the ground outside a movie theater, and it was unclear if he had fallen after being assaulted or had just fallen down from being piss drunk.  Regardless of the reason, he happily vomited on my shoes as we transferred him from their gurney to our stretcher.

Though he was too drunk to talk, I thought I would go through the motions and ask his name.  As I was opening my mouth the nurse said, "Wait . . . is that John {not his real name}?"

John?  Who the hell is John?  And did he really just say "not his real name"?

"Oh yeah I forgot," the medic said.  "He had this hospital ID on when we found him."

I looked at the ID card, and the nurse was absolutely right - John was one of our emergency nursing assistants.  "I just gave him an assignment last night," the nurse continued, looking from John to me and back again.  "He just got off at 8 this morning!  And he was supposed to be back at 3:30 today for another shift."

I looked at the clock - it was 3:25.

"He made it," I said dryly.  "Just in time."


  1. I heard that deaths came in groups of three. Is that true?

    1. Trouble comes in groups of three, I know that much. I would assume Deaths in a hospital environment would be big trouble and thereby also come in threes.

      Or maybe a death just drags more trouble out of the woodwork.

  2. As a previous CNA who worked in nursing homes for six years, yes. It would always without fail come in threes. And it was usually the last ones we ever expected.


    Doc they're on to yo-... your coworkers!

  4. I applaud his ability to show up on schedule no matter what the means!

  5. Even worse than the Call Gods is the Full Moon Goddess. She and the Call Gods sit wherever they sit, and smite down any doctor or nurse who is foolish enough to either (1) mention it's a full moon out; or (2) makes the "gosh, things are slow" remark, uttering either remark out loud or to themselves. The Full Moon Goddess can get inside our heads very easily... she hears all. :) And she's a Class A bitch who will have her due, one way or another.

  6. Bahahahaha! Wow. That could've been scripted. I admire your ability to think on your feet.


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