Our hospital is celebrating Employee's Week, so today when I walked in to work there was the biggest box of donuts I've ever seen just waiting to be devoured. So of course I ate one. I don't even like donuts but I ate one anyway.
A little later there was a reception downstairs where they had a huge fruit basket and some cookies. So of course I had some fruit. I had an apple and a banana and then some grapes.
Riiiiight. Forget the fruit. I had a cookie. A big, bakery sized snickerdoodle. And it was good.
Soon after that I had lunch. A big salad, full of chickpeas and beets and fiber filled leafy greens. I figured if nothing else, it would at least neutralize the cookies.
Soon after that someone decided that it wasn't fair to make us actually walk to the sugar, so they brought the sugar to us. We had a tray of bakery cookies in the break room that was roughly the size of my laundry room. I had an oatmeal raisin cookie and another snickerdoodle. Of course I washed this all down with my usual gallon of Diet Coke that fuels me through the workday. By the time I absently mindedly ate my second donut, I was noticing vague Mt. St. Helen's type rumbles from my belly.
This was right about the time they brought in the tray of peanut butter cookies, my biggest cookie addiction. It was all downhill from there, and by the time the beans and the greens and the carbonation and the caffeine and the sugar overload started duking it out in my gut I was ready for one of my own trauma beds. The last two hours of my shift I moaned more than my patients. And got a hell of a lot less sympathy, too.
Next year I hope they get us something useful, like a stomach pump.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Posted by the rotten correspondent at 12:02 AM