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January 10 - January 13, 2025
Mr. Leeman’s BMI is about five trillion. Not really.
I’m not as bothered, and it’s not just because I automatically like anything that makes Alyssa unhappy.
I already got the handwriting down pat.
Alyssa’s forehead definitely isn’t doing her any favors.
Then I get disgusted with myself that stealing index cards has now become my biggest fantasy.
I secretly suspect that Connie and Alyssa are twins separated at birth.
know the smell of fungus better than I know my own name right now,
I don’t know who I’m angrier at: Mr. Leeman, for having no idea that he has a huge smelly wound on his butt, or Alyssa, for being right.
Hours Awake: 23 Chance of quitting: 90%
Because they’re books. How can you get rid of a book? That’s like throwing away knowledge.
If it gets any more serious, I may have to introduce him to my mother.
I can almost hear her hair follicles screaming in pain.
Damn. I still don’t know her name.
after spending at least thirty seconds trying to correctly punch in the code for the door (3-1-2).
I’ve known Alyssa for 30 seconds and I’m already terrified of her.
You know how they say if you can’t say something positive, don’t say it at all? Yeah.
I’d imagine it’s due to medical residents pressing their faces against the glass and wishing they were outside.
Alyssa sighs and looks at her watch again, like she’s considering just calling it a day at this point because I’m just so, so late.
Seriously, I am one minute late. Get over it, Alyssa.
The mass could be benign—meaning, completely harmless.
she’s knitting, which is just about the cutest thing ever.
Hours Awake: 8 Chance of Quitting: 45%
I hate tofu—really hate it.
(thanks for the analogy, Sexy Surgeon).
One My: Patient is mildly ill, likely discharge in next day or two Two My’s: Moderate illness. Patient probably needs some sort of invasive testing. Three My’s: Severe illness. Possibly close to ICU level of care. Intubation is imminent. Four My’s: Call the coroner.
Chance either Julia or I will kill each other during the night: 38%
All night long, baby.
Illness is a treacherous dragon, breathing fire on innocent patients, and as a physician, I want to be the shining knight who battles that dragon and saves my patients’ lives.)
I’m definitely going to be on the lookout for flowers, that’s for sure.
He may be cute, but if he calls me that one more time, I swear I’ll punch him in the face.
I hate County Hospital.
At this rate, it’s going to take me five hours to get a history on this man.
edentulous, which means he has little to no teeth—where his teeth used to be, there are only gaping red holes.
Emesis: Puke Epistaxis: Nosebleed Stool: Poop Dyschezia: Hurts to poop Hematochezia: Blood in poop
while I stand there on the brink of tears.
Boris at least has the decency to look apologetic.
Hours awake: 5 Chance of quitting: 52%
and before that, they probably used this computer right here.
You gotta be nice to the nurses. Or else.
I look down at the form. There’s still no box for echocardiogram. I might cry.
Hours awake: 17 Chance of quitting: 78%
I love you, Alyssa. I want to give you a drunken hug.
Apparently, I am going to be sleeping on the roof.
Hours awake: 22 (give or take) Chance of quitting: 83%