Trapped by the Golden Gate Bridge!
By….a blonde? What does she want? Advice about her rash? An Advil?
And what on earth is the nurse doing climbing rocks in full uniform?
Why on earth would she expose her cap to the elements like that?
Has she no respect for the symbol of her profession?
The biggest question of all, though, is…
Will the nurse lose the cap precariously perched on her head just above the rushing waves of the San Francisco Bay?
And just who is that guy in black hanging off the rocks to the left?
Oh, you were good.
The best I’ve ever seen.
You had me, a PA and a MD all absolutely convinced.
Pale and diaphoretic, you made it to the ER within sixty seconds of your sudden onset of excruciating abdominal pain.
That’s fast…..were you just outside the doors when it started?
You were much younger than you looked.
In fact, you looked you ran a string of methamphetamine labs and sampled from each one.
You looked like you had had a rough life up to that point.
The number of pregnancies you gave me would have meant that you had been pregnant every month beginning at age eight.
You were in your thirties.
I know a ruptured ovarian cyst when I see it.
I’ve had one.
For all intents and purposes, you looked like you had one, you acted like you had one and your were treated emergently for your pain.
I figured you would be going to OR. I even pulled out the surgery packet.
We were extremely worried about you.
We scrambled to find an IV.
(A lot of scarring for someone who has never used drugs. But even drug abusers have serious illnesses, we suspected, but we continued to worry.)
When you mentioned you had three tubal pregnancies but also had your tubes tied something inside my subconscious registered “does not compute”, but we were too busy trying to find the source of your pain.
No matter, we started the line and we hydrated you and we gave you the very best in narcotics that we had to offer and we gave them liberally to get your pain down to a tolerable level.
Your scans and ultrasounds showed nothing. You didn’t even have an ovary on the affected side.
But your pain was better.
And when you left, you didn’t even want to know what your tests showed.
Because you knew.
It was nothing.
But you had gotten your fix.
We had put our energy into and given much undivided attention to you because you presented as seriously ill.
But, as Bob Dylan sang so perfectly:
You just sorta wasted my precious time….
But don’t think twice, it’s alright.