Tales from the land of Er, epilogue

I know, I know. I just finished telling you guys yesterday about how I wouldn't be blogging this week because of my big paper, and now here I am. I made progress today, so I deserve a break. Just one more ER story. And the edited-for-TV version at that.
I signed up for the "arm cyst" (translation: pus pocket) on my last shift. This was really a win-win situation: no one else wanted it and would therefore interpret my action as me taking one for the team, but I knew the necessary incision and drainage (I&D to those of us in the know) would take so long I wouldn't have to sign up for anyone else before my shift was over. So I gathered my supplies like a good little worker bee and pranced on in. I donned my plastic gown, mask with face shield thingie, gloves, and hat (take no chances with pus under pressure) and prepped my field.
I'll spare you the gory details (you really, really don't wanna know), but the short version is that I made a grown man cry. But that isn't even the point. As I was standing there injecting and cutting and probing etc, my butt started ringing. Well, not my butt exactly. My phone in my butt pocket. Clearly there was no taking that call.

Voicemail: Hi, it's Meagan. Just calling about your trip tomorrow. I'm sure you're busy saving lives in the ER, so just call me later!


Ha. Right, saving lives. One abscess at a time. Peace, ER. Time for me to make like a baby and head out.