I had a patient in triage, screaming that it was an emergency and why would I “waste time out here when they should be saving my feet! They’re turning blue, I’m going to lose them!!!!”
I glanced down and noticed something strange.
“Ma’am, are they new socks?” (I reached for an alcohol swab to swab her ankle). The dye was bleeding from her socks and came off with the alcohol.
She stood up, gave me a haughty look and without a word, marched out as if it was all my fault.
This is actually quite sad. A while ago we had a patient brought in after being resuscitated from cardiac arrest. His heart was somewhat stable, but he was still unresponsive. I don’t think he made it out the hospital alive.
The ironic thing is that it turned out he was the driver of a hearse and he’d had the heart attack at a funeral.
Three patients were brought in: one w/ melena, using the toilet (and wow did he smell), another one just two beds down the line w/ diarrhea making a mess in the bed. In between, I had to see the third patient: married straight guy who contracted syphilis and had no idea how (“Probably a toilet seat!” he said…yeah).
My patient screamed at the top of his lungs at a skilled nursing facility: “YOU PEOPLE ARE KIDNAPPING ME! I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”
He turned to my coworker and asked, “Can I borrow your phone?”
I read out a Pt’s weight of 195, and she said, “Oh, I lost a lot of weight!” I asked her how much she had lost, and she replied, “I weighed 325lbs 8 months ago.”
I told her I was impressed and asked her how she lost so much weight, and before I had even finished she stared me straight in the eyes and said, “Meth!”