Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Only 4 weeks to Christmas so the silly season has begun...
‘Resus to bed 101.’ Doctor de Licious, Specialist Registrar, barked the order. He noticed how efficiently the blonde nurse pressed the numbers and took a few deep breaths. He too, must be calm in the face of calamity. He couldn’t lose this patient. And he wanted to impress this particular nurse.
‘I can’t understand it,’ he said quietly. ‘When I examined her earlier, all her vital signs were good. Pulse and temperature normal, blood pressure fine. She was chatting away quite happily. I would have discharged her tomorrow. What’s happened?’
‘Don’t worry,’ soothed Staff Nurse Gorgeous, admiring the doctor’s chiselled features, and wondering how she could angle for a date.
‘Let me through.’ Doctor Read pushed through the curtains surrounding bed 101. He glanced at the patient - and checked her pulse - it was there, but barely. ‘Hmm Glasgow Coma Score 9. How long ago were her last obs?’
‘Just 15 minutes ago, doctor,’ confirmed Nurse Gorgeous. ‘This has come on very quickly. She was sitting up in bed with a big fat book and…’
‘My prescription pad, quickly nurse,’ cried Dr Read. ‘Now, this will bring her round in no time. No real harm done. Just pop down and get these, nurse. You too, doctor. Nurse can’t carry everything we need.’
As they hurried on their urgent errand, Doctor de Licious managed to ask Staff Nurse Gorgeous if she would care for dinner that evening. They staggered back to the ward with a bag containing everything Dr Read had prescribed. The nurse took the items out one by one. A classic, a thriller, a romance, a murder mystery, a copy of Do Not Exceed Sixty, one bottle of gin and one of tonic.
‘Now nurse, start reading this out loud, it’ll soon bring the patient round.’ He handed her Do Not Exceed Sixty. 'And when you judge she’s ready, a G&T will sort her out once and for all. Never fails.’
Dr Read picked up the book that had caused his patient to slip into semi-consciousness: The Latest by Will Indulge Self. He dropped it in the clinical waste bin.
‘Call the Chief Exec and inform her that books by this author will henceforth be banned from the hospital premises. I will be writing up a paper for The Lancet about the health hazards of these books that get listed for the Emperor’s Clothes Prize.’
It was only when her bleep went off during chapter eight that Nurse Gorgeous realised she was late for her date.
‘Ooh, you get off, dear’ said her patient, sipping her second G&T, ‘I’m feeling fine now. Have a wonderful time with Doctor Delicious. If I was twenty years younger…’