Dashing Through the Snow

Your intrepid hospice nurse pulled another double shift last night. I think it's the pleading tones of the supervisor that get to me. She sounds so reasonable and needy that I find I can't say no. To add to that, she prefaced by saying, "I know you're having a quiet night," at which point, I should have screamed the word NO! NO! NO! She had invoked the curse of nurses everywhere by saying the word, quiet.

Bye-bye Japanese car (I'm going to miss you). Hello made in Kansas Ford Escape.

The weather was, in a word, wretched, with already 2 inches of heavy wet snow and more mixed precipitation expected. Emboldened by my new sleigh, I accepted the mission of working 16 hours. Fool. Big dummy head. That's me. Weak, weak, weak.

The phone didn't ring again until just shy of midnight and I had to drive 25 miles to see a patient. Even with four wheel drive and my snappy V6 engine, it still took close to an hour to get there because the slush was so deep on the freeway. I got home at 3 AM and fell asleep. Deep in slumber, and probably paralyzed during REM sleep, I didn't hear my beeper go off at 6:45 and missed calling a family back promptly to answer a question. I felt awful, when I finally awoke at 8 AM to see the page.

That's it. No more doubles. I don't care how sweet she sounds or how nicely she begs, the next time the supervisor calls me, I'm going to let her go to voicemail so I have time to practice saying no.

In an attempt to find humor today, I came upon this holiday video. That Ozzy is a naughty boy: