Tuesday, March 13, 2007

A week I'd like to forget

Mood: more than rotten
Weather: I don't care
Eating: wonderbar
Drinking: coffee
Listening to: Another night in - Tindersticks


The last week consisted of a row of days I'd like to delete from my calendar.
From every calendar in the whole wide world.
More awful than clinic duty.
The most awful week a sick brain can imagine.
A very sick brain.
A very, very,very sick brain.
A very, very, very, very...

Ah, let's drop that.

The whole mess started with Cuddy's spring festival - I already told you it was embarassing, right?
Well, Foreman and Jim wrote about it.
I won't do that.
No.
You won't read anything about it here.
I wrote about Sunday morning. This should be enough.

Monday morning I was cranky and thought about calling in sick.
"Darling...you can't call in sick until the whole thing is forgotten", Jim said and took me by my shoulders.
I avoided his glance and sighed deeply. "Yes...I know that...But a last respite before facing the enemy would be helpful...."
"I don't think so. You'd be grumpy all day and think about tomorrow."
I knew he was right and that it was better to face it now.
"But...", I began.
James silenced me by placing a kiss upon my pouting lips. "No but, babes. We will both show up at work. And laugh in the faces of those who stare at us. Or ignore them."
I opened my eyes again and tried to grin. "I'm in! Let's ignore them!"

Okay.
Easier said than done.
Of course.
After Saturday's scandal Monday resembled running the gauntlet.
Those who had been prevented for any reason that Saturday had been told by the others who had been there.
So the whole staff of the PPTH knew about our ill luck, our grave misfortune, our painfulness...
You know that scene from western movies.
The saloon door opens and everyone falls silent.
Okay...we were no gunslingers and the PPTH was no saloon...
But - we came in and everyone seemed to freeze in their movements and fell silent.
I forced myself to limp on and check in. Debbie smiled at us as if nothing ever happened and wished us a good morning.
"Morn'", I just said and turned to head for the elevator. Jim at my side took my arm which made them even gaze and stare at us more.
Fortunately we both were the only ones in the elevator and so we were able to reach our offices without being stared at again.

Cameron greeted my with a smugly smile. "Good morning, Dr. House!"
"Morning, Cameron", I muttered and disappeared into my office.
Foreman and Chase skulked by and raised a greeting hand when I looked up and out of the glass walls.
Five minutes later two men wearing fatigues knocked at my door and came in after i nodded. They deinstalled the security cameras and left after their work was done.
I sighed and turned my attention to the files on my desk.
A man with flaking, dry skin, small, red papules on the area of the soft palate (yes, Forchheimer's sign!), fever (just 100.4 °F) and swollen glands.
Boring.
Rubella.
He's treated with paracetamol until the disease has run its course.

The second file didn't promise anything more spectacular.
A child with tender regional lymphadenopathy, sterile suppurative papules at the site of inoculation, slight fever, headache, chills, backache, abdominal pain, malaise, alteration of mental status, and convulsions.
Boring again.
Cat scratch fever...usually resolves spontaneously, with or without treatment, in one month.

Isn't it wonderful and exciting sometimes to be an infectiologist?
Say yes!

So much to work this Monday...
Anything else was exciting...or more annoying.
The whole week was annoying as I told you.
All those grinning faces, all the whispering, all the glances...
Horrible!
I hate being the center of attention.
And I hate it even more if it is because of some embarassing incident.

You won't believe how many women cried in front of me.
Nurses who still had been unaware of the fact James was married to me.
Nurses who had been some of his affaires during his marriages.
Nurses who sobbed "I wish he had treated me like that!"
Nurses who tore at my nerves.

Then there were those who just made me angry with their silly tough-talking.
"Hey, Dr. House! Who had thought that grumpy old cripple could be so cuddly, begging and yielding!"
A sarcastic smile was all they got from me.

Others grabbed my ass in the elevator and when I turned around everyone looked innocent. Haha! Very funny!

Well...and I was really surprised by the amount of doctors making overtures. I wasn't aware of the fact that there were so many gay or at least bi-sexual employees here. And I have to admit I was slightly shocked they tried to hit on me altough to my mind it was perfectly clear I'm with James.
Even "Playboy Jones", the heartthrob from cardiology was one of them.

My mind keeps racing around the fact that I don't want to think about what might have happened to Jim if they behaved like that towards me, the hunchback of Notredame.

Some wit thought it was a great joke to put a sign on my door reading Babes Darling MD.
A case for 6th floor, I'm sure.
And I heard "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze!" more than once.
One of the buffoons even uploaded the video to youtube...
Cuddy had it deleted though - thank God!
They all calmed down a bit until Friday and I hope this week will be pretty normal again.

1 Comments:

Blogger Dr. James Wilson said...

Lets hope that this week will be better. I have enough of those hitting on things ...

March 13, 2007  

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