Is that man being rolled in on a stretcher by EMS really singing opera? (Also noteworthy: he had a surprisingly good alto soprano.) If you happen to look in his triage record, which I did while puzzling over his diagnosis, you would read that it states simply and accurately, “Loud and singing.” Really?
Is this lady really refusing to remove her diarrhea-saturated panties and jeans because she has money in the pockets? Upon closer examination, the pockets are actually safety-pinned closed at least 10 times on each side. Maam, do you honestly think I am going to steal your diarrhea-saturated money? Really?
Is that man-struck-down-by-car in the trauma room really arguing with approximately 10 residents and nurses and 3 attendings about the need to lie still while he is being examined because, as he (rightly, as it turns out) states, “I am a physician and I know exactly where I am injured!” He then proceeds to sit up on the bed, ignoring all protest, and removes the C-collar himself. Really?
While I wasn’t present for this, the story is far too good to go unshared. Young drunk lady comes into the ER asking every nurse/resident/doctor that she encounters, “Wanna see my kitty?” Despite stern admonishing, by a nurse that she needs to lie still and keep her gown on, she repeatedly keeps pulling it up while squealing, “Wooooo!” Finally an exasperated nurse says, “Put away your cookies! No one wants to see them.” Too true. But still, really?
Is the nursing student soon-to-be-nurse really still puzzling over the diagnosis of our lovely opera singer? Ah, drunk, yes, that took about 20 seconds too long. Really.