It's a bad sign when...

A. Your day starts with a panicked call from work, saying you're desperately needed a few hours early.

B. Your walk in to find your patient tied to his chair, which he eventually learns how to scoot around the room.

C. That patient has likes to get a death grip on anything in reach...and his nails are reeeeeally long.

D. All of the above.


Now, of course, the answer is D, making for two rather crappy days at work. Monday started out with the panicked call, which woke me up. I showered, ate and finished getting ready in about twenty minutes and then drove to work really fast. Luckily for my extra few hours, I was in ABI with a kid that was about to get discharged so he was only mildly goofy. But then -tear- they sent me to 12E, which I was hoping meant overdose patient--they're usually pretty docile...or totally unconscious. But alas, I walk in to find this creature tied to his chair--SCARY looking guy, which it finally ocurred to me last night just what he reminds me of: an oviraptor. He ended up not being so bad. I'm good at avoiding the grab since Julie used to do that a lot when we were little and Sarah and I pretty much lived at each other's houses. The only thing that ended up being not so cool was that to calm him down at night, he required a nice, long ride in the wheelchair. So I put him in the chair around 7:00 and didn't stop pushing until around 9:00. About 12 laps around the floor is a mile; I'm pretty sure I walked about 5 miles. Hopefully he'll be gone tomorrow when I work again.