Monday, August 22, 2011

My adventures on night float, night 3

I have a patient who legally changed her name to Tupac Shakur.

Seriously.

Except she's nothing at all like Tupac. She's teeny tiny, doesn't know anything about rapping, and she's definitely not from the hood. And her voice sounds like a five year old child's. As mean as it may be, she seriously sounds like Little Orphan Annie when she speaks.

TUPAC
Doctor! I have chest pain!

ME
That's not good. Where does it hurt?

TUPAC
In my leg!!

ME
Does it hurt in your chest?

TUPAC
No! Just my leg!

ME
Errr, so do you have chest pain??

TUPAC
Yeah! And the only thing that can make me feel better is some juice and a cigarette!

ME
Well, I can't give you a cigarette, but I can get you some juice.

[thirty seconds after finishing the juice]

TUPAC
Thanks doctor! My chest pain is all gone now!

It's the newest regimen for chest pain, my friends. Forget the morphine, oxygen, nitro, aspirin. All you really need is a good juice box. What can I say? I'm a miracle worker.