This year, I worked on Super Bowl Sunday. It’s one of those days where it could be absolutely crazy or totally quiet. This year was pretty quiet. At least until after the game.
We had shopped the day before for our football food and dinner (chips, dip, guac, salsa, burgers, and brownies) so we didn’t need to go out. We did go out and do some pumping evolutions in the morning, more drafting practice in preparation for my quarterly evaluation. Drilling on Sunday? On Super Bowl Sunday? Yeah, that’s just how we roll.
So now, barring any calls we were all set for the game. We had been up a few times the night before so there was a good chance at least one of us would be asleep in their chair if the game didn’t stay exciting. Turns out that was me, but just for the start of the third quarter.
Surprisingly enough, we got through the game without interruption and even started dinner before the calls started. A series of drunk calls from the post game celebrations. Nothing like having your dinner interrupted by vomiting patients and then trying to return to it.
Our evening culminated with the meth addict who had supposedly been up for three days. He was shirtless, very agitated, wild eyed, and in handcuffs. He responded to questions with a series of guttural growling noises made through clenched teeth. I suppose it is possible he was possessed but I didn't really check for that.
We need an exorcist. Stat!
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