One of his older brothers Jason is married to Jessica, who will join Christopher this summer in that very same ER as a doctor. I’m not sure they can stand two Aun’s in the same ER.
For years, Christopher has regaled me about the oddities of the ER and the craziness that he gets to witness. “Dad you won’t believe what some people will show up stuffed in various parts of their bodies?”
You’re right… I don’t believe it.
Now that Jessica has joined him, I should be able to enjoy a cornucopia of stories.
Jessica met my son Jason while both were on scholarship at Northern Michigan University in Marquette, Michigan. They were both trying to make the U.S. Olympic Team.
Olympic weightlifters are trained in Marquette. While neither made the final cut to represent their country in the Olympics, both came away with a quality education. Jason used to joke that they kept him around just to boost the team GPA. Most weightlifters can’t spell the word.
When I first met Jessica, I gave her a nickname- Runt! She is five foot nothing and weighs one hundred nothing. She lifts weights that far exceed her own body weight.
Now Dr. Runt gets to make her mark in the Orlando ER. She shows up in her mismatched socks and her beautiful long blonde hair, presenting the patient with a totally different image of what an ER doc should look like. On top of that, she’s nice, which most doctors today aren’t.
Other than suffering from terminal apathy and being severely overworked, a lot of doctors have the personality of an eggplant. They’re smart, just not very people friendly.
Dr. Runt, on the other hand, has that part figured out, which is why she’ll champion that profession much as she did in her weightlifting endeavors.
She and Nurse Gutt should leave an indelible mark on the ER. Some ER people are apathetic. It’s like they have the philosophy that all bleeding eventually stops and we all eventually die of something. After all, you can’t hurt a dead man.
Nurse Gutt tells me he has experienced everything from drug addicts looking for a fix to drunks who lose it and assault him, which is a felony. After his last assault, Nurse Gutt says he wishes he didn’t bother to report it. The 12 hours of aggravation from the paperwork he had to tolerate was more painful than the blow he took.
When a drunk asks: “Hey doc, when is the pain going away?” Answer: “When it stops hurting!”
The job of the ER folks is to keep their cool and a sense of humor. If nothing goes wrong then you probably missed something. A lot of this kind of medicine is “shoot-from-the-hip” remedy.
Nurse Gutt tells me he’d like to post a sign in the ER but obviously can’t: “EVERYBODY HERE GETS TREATED THE SAME, UNTIL HE PISSES YOU
Dr. Runt faces another set of issues. Not only has she got to be right, she has to convince the patient. So here you are looking at a doctor who looks like she’s your grandchild with mismatched socks. The patient has to ask himself, is she out of grammar school yet?
Going to dinner with my children and their spouses is always a real trip for me. My wife is also an RN by training and she loves all the medical discussion, which ranges from discussing dismemberment to facetiously arguing how duct tape would be a nice remedy for open wounds.
Since ER personnel are floating from one crisis to another, they have to have a bladder with the capacity of five people. One of Nurse Gutt’s favorite exercises is to identify the teeth-to-tattoo-ratio, cluing him on how shallow the gene pool really is. His 12-hour shifts are so demanding that he feels like suggesting aerial spraying of Prozac.
The good news… you automatically have your weekends planned a year in advance!