ALL of my housemen were down the road this morning taking their forensic exam. That left JY and myself...actually...that left me alone to attend sort out the morning's chemotherapy as JY was kidnapped by the methadone sprites. Things were very exciting:
- We had our names (our names being 'CYTO!!!' and 'METHADONE!!!') constantly called out.
- I got a new housemen (hhhmmm...wonder why she did not go for the exams) who I did not have time to brief, so I got to her to read all the SOPs.
- The phone rang every three minutes.
- Patients were lining up to see me in front of the counter.
- Regimen after regimen landed in front of me. I think that my clerks enjoyed the bewilded look on my face as they place the protocols on my table one after another. My hair reflected the condition my cyto table was in: messy and wild.
- A whole stack of my ward's prescriptions landed in front of me...each one had either Tazocin or Tienam in it. As I was on leave for one whole week and missed rounds that morning, I had no idea of what was going on with the patients upstairs.
- A request for paclitaxel test dose came in. I had never done a test dose for paclitaxel before and so I had to squeeze in a literature search in between all of the above.
There was no time for coffee, eating or peeing and we worked through lunch till the said housemen returned at 2 pm. By that time, I was so caffeine deprived that my mouth was spewing sentences that did not seem to originate from my upper regions. I was calling people by the wrong name and had taken to walking into tables and door frames. A classic example of a major system shutdown.
Thank God for the wasabi covered macadamia nuts on my table!
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