I think the Potato might just be a better option...

Sometimes one gets lucky.


Sometimes one works with an actual nurse, other times one works with a potato.


For the last few weeks I've been performing locums as a medical officer in Internal Medicine


Which means I'm at the back of the hospital,in the wards, far away from my beloved emergency unit.


The nurses here are few and far between.


But there are very, many, potatoes.


Everywhere I look:


One Potato,


Two Potato,


Three Potato,


Four.


Tomorrow I am going to bring a bag of potatoes to work, stand at the entrance of the ward, throw the potatoes between the beds, and then try to distinguish between the actual staff, and the mindless starch...

(Which will require an amount of mental agility that I simply do not possess.)

Brain Transplantation

Never in the history of medicine, has a secret this revolutionary been revealed.

Oh yes, dear reader, simply by following this blog you will become privy to the most highly protected top secret information regarding a world-changing medical miracle.

Are you ready?
Are you sitting down?
Do you have a paper bag to hyperventilate into?

You do?

Well get ready...this is the big reveal.....

BRAIN TRANSPLANTATION!!!!!!

Yes, that's right. You read that correctly! The harvesting of one person's brain to the inside of another person's skull is indeed possible!

You sound skeptical.

But my dear reader, look around you.

The proof is everywhere.

Think of your past. Think of your present. Think of people you know who are constantly behaving in stupid ways. People who are happily flaunting their idiocy in ways that leave you speechless. Think of the dumb, retarded, mind-boggling actions you have had to endure from a moron who happened to enter your life.

And so? Does it now become clear? Has the penny dropped?

These people MUST have donated their brains to science.
This is the only explanation for their brain-donor behaviours, and therefore conclusive proof that indeed, brain transplantation is taking place.

Of course, their are strict guidelines for those selected to donate their brains.

The main one being that you never used it in the first place.

There are also other reasons brains get removed from skulls. However those removals are not for tranplantation purposes, but for urgent HUMANITARIAN purposes. What I mean is that the brain is removed to prevent future generations from suffering the same afflictions.
Some of these serious afflictions are as follows:
Faecocranium - medical speak for "shit for brains".
Pneumocranium - medical speak for "air-head".

Last week I personally encountered a living brain donor.
Now I hate berating the nurses for anything. They are grossly understaffed and have terrible working conditions. But my God, this one was definitely operating with an empty cranium.


I asked this nursing sister, very nicely, to take a temperature reading on my patient who clinically felt like he was stoking a raging 40 degree fire inside his torso.

This is not unreasonable.

She told me that a request like that was impossible to follow as she did not have a thermometer. When I asked her to borrow one from her colleague, or go and get one from another ward, she simply said that it was not in the nursing guidelines and that each nurse was to use their own thermometer.

WTF lady - then where the hell is yours? When I asked her if that meant that none of the patients coming through the door would have their temperatures screened, she stared blankly at me and said, "Unfortunately that is how it will be tonight".

It became apparent then that I was conversing with a non-cerebrating individual.
The wheel was turning, but the hamster was dead.

An argument would have been in vain. Better results would have been gained by arguing with the wall.



After staring at that lazy cow of a sister's fat ass waddling slowly from patient to patient all night, I endeavoured to practice its rectal thermometer capabilities on her...

I never did get to try it out on her though.
My focus was suddenly shifted to the psych patient whose sedation was wearing off, and was at that moment then harassing another patient's mother IN FRONT OF THE SECURITY GUARD.
The security guard, although positioned in the perfect viewing spot for the pending assault, continued chewing on a string and playing with his navel.
Clearly another brain donor ripe for rectal thermometer testing.

Do you see?! What did I tell you - there are brain donors! They're everywhere!

Brain transplantation, people, it's happening!

Believe it.

Just remember where you read it first.

Sloth and Competence and knowing when to use them.

It's half past two in the afternoon.

I've just managed to teach my brain to communicate with my body again.

My brain was awake for an hour trying to convince my skeletal muscles that listening to what it has to say is a good idea.

Brain was saying that Skeletal Muscle should help Body get out of bed, hunt for food and evacuate the bladder.

Skeletal muscle was telling Brain to go fuck itself.

Brain won in the end, after a lengthy hour long debate.

Skeletal Muscle got it's own revenge though, and operated like a sulky teenager after being told to clean up it's room...apathetically, slowly, and with no respect.

Which is why I looked something like the illegitimate retarded offspring of Shrek and a three-toed sloth...slouching round the house half-blind, in last night's scrubs top, underwear and socks...mumbling incoherently while in search for the kitchen.


My keen sense of smell led me to the fridge - On which I pinned all my hopes and dreams for a nutritious lunch.

I opened the silver doors and the holy light from within flooded my sleep encrusted face ...

Aahhh *insert choir of angels here*

# Leftover pizza that someone ordered last night ( Score! It's mine now!)
# Crackers with gourmet prawn dip with real prawns from Woolworths.
# Zoo biscuits.
# And a jar of Nutella's spreadable chocolate.

This surely is heaven, and just reward for the shitstorm of last night. Thank you, Fridge Gods!


My call was insane. Which is why I was so tired that when I got home, I couldn't even perform my usual post call ritual of jumping in the shower and scrubbing off the evening's filth, until the top layer of my skin has washed down the drain.
I just shoved an energy bar down my gullet - took off my pants and collapsed on the bed.

The bullshit started out when the locum doctor, who was supposed to be on call with me, arrived two hours late.

While awaiting his arrival, I called the emergency contact number for the locum agency he was from to find out:

Exactly.
Where.
The fuck.
He was.

The middle-aged lady that picked up on the other end could possibly have been a product of incest.

Product of incest:"Oh, um, ja, who are you?"

Me: "It's Dr S from ________trauma unit. Where is the locum you are getting paid to send us tonight?"

Product of incest: "Oh yes, he called three hours ago to say he would be late. But, where is the other doctor for tonight?"

Me: "I AM THE OTHER DOCTOR. If you knew that he was going to be late - WHY HAVE YOU NOT INFORMED US of this fact timeously."

To which the product of incest replied...and wait for it...this really was her excuse..." I was in church!"

Me: "Being in church is no excuse for incompetence. You should stop using your religion to justify not doing your job properly. We'd all LOVE to be in church, or in mosque, or at home on the couch watching the Sunday night movie. But we aren't. We are here doing our jobs. "

I was too pissed off to listen to her ranting and raving that "being in church " was a valid excuse for letting us flounder in primary health care hell on a Sunday night without assistance. So I very politely put down the phone. That woman should take a good look at herself and pictures of her uncle/mothers cousin. There will possibly be very striking similarities.

When the guy eventually arrived - the tragic thing was, I realised that I was probably better off working alone as he was NO HELP whatsoever.

In total, we saw 100 patients from 17h00 to 07h00.
I saw 70. He saw 30.
He would do things like, send a patient off for a urine sample and then WAIT until the patient came back. One can see up to four patients by the time it takes a paralysed stroke victim to go to the bathroom and pee.

When a man walked into the unit and immediately collapsed while having a generalised tonic-clonic seizure, he just stood there and watched me ( 5o kg, petite female me) try to move the man onto a bed to begin treatment.
What a dick. I ended up asking the porters and security guards for help.
They were brilliant and knew exactly what to do - handing me the correct fluids and instruments for IV access.
Fuckwit doctor strode around the bed with hands in his pockets issuing instructions which I, of course, ignored. I don't take advice from brain-donor men who believe that they are automatically in charge - just because they own a penis.

The sisters and I spent the rest of the night ignoring him and swearing at him in Afrikaans. The guy was from Durban so had no idea what we were saying. They don't speak Afrikaans in Durban. Mean - but necessary.

The cherry on the top was when at o3h30 he announced that he had a plane to catch and would be leaving to get his things in order. He then asked the sister in charge to sign his on call sheet from 17h00 to 07h00 so he could get a full night's pay.

He clearly did not know about Sister CrL. She didn't sign his sheet at all. Good girl!

Can I just say - that as I am a community service officer - my rates are standard, very low and fixed regardless of how hard I work. These locums get paid more than double what I make as they are from the private agencies -so in effect I got paid half the amount and was working more than twice as hard.

Did I mention that it's five weeks and counting?


Jeez - just got a whif of myself while reaching over the table. I smell like the hospital!!! AAAAAAAAAAHHH!

I thinks it's time for that shower now...