im done with wordpress.

am now back to the original makanrojak.blogspot.com

because i feel like it, because blogspot caters for my needs and because blogspot gives out way more lollies.

see you there.

hmmm.  

have this urge to move back to good ol blogger.com. realised that wordpress is not as user friendly as i thought it would be. or perhaps someone like myself, with such low levels of intelligence, should be fiddling with myself rather than fiddling with complex programs like wordpress.

hmmm.

*fiddles self*

instead of attending to adrenaline packed traumas last night, i saw a patient who actually came for the most ridiculous problem.

“how can i help you?”

“oh, just wanted to ask for your opinion on whether i should start having children or not.”

hmmm.

and this was close to five in the morning.

with her intelligence on par with an expired packet of potato chips, the answer is obvious.

which leads me to some questions thats bothering me. was there suddenly a tax imposed on alcohol last night? did a rogue viking ship dock and unleash a horde of thirsty scandinavians last night? if the answer to the above questions is no, then can someone please tell me why there wasnt a single drunk fuck induced trauma last night? did everybody suddenly become responsible? boo hoo.

no lollies for figuring that it was a boring friday night.

cibai. got my first complaint letter, and like everyone else at the receiving end of such nonsense, i want to say that…its not my fault! but i suppose it’s inevitable, i see well over thirty whining patients a single day in the ed, and ive been there for six months. and if your intelligence is perhaps a fraction better than a retarded half eaten pau, then perhaps you can calculate that ive had about five thousand and five hundred screaming and whining patients spilling their shit in front of me. surely one will complain. and i will say it again…its not my fault!

cibai.

i knew she was a dodgy one. she has been coming to the ed over the years for the very life threatening and rare disease called backache. oohh, strikes fear in all of us. id rather be sitting in the clinic being infused with toxic chemotherapy for my metastatic liver cancer, feeling depressed and have some rabied dog chew on my right testicle at the same time than suffer the consequences of backache. and of course, she is also allergic to every damn fucking painkiller except the opioids. arent they all!

anyway, bless the relevant gods that she didnt have backache at that time, instead, this mother of a bitch came to see me for another life threatening and rare disease called “my pet dog bit my ankle”. now, ill reiterate that i’d rather be sitting in the clinic being infused with toxic chemotherapy for my metastatic liver cancer, feeling depressed, have some rabied dog chew on my right testicle AND a jackhammer vibrating up my ass than suffer the consequences of “my pet dog bit my ankle”! bad disease to have. bad. bad.

so fine, surprise surprise, there indeed was a bite wound on her ankle. looked very innocent, save maybe for some mild surrounding cellulitis which i decided to treat with some antibiotics. chop chop and out she goes, or as we would say in emergency medicine, she was disposed. har har.

then by the horrors of horrors, i discovered i made a mistake by prescribing her a drug she was allergic to. as mentioned before, her allergy list is for the lack of a better word, shocking. rolling the mouse over the allergy icon for this bitch is like being slapped repeatedly by a pair of watermelon tits, it wakes you up and instills a sense of shock and awe in you. and somewhere amongst all the clutter, typed in short form was the antibiotic class i just prescribed. no fear. i trotted and skipped like happy bambi to the pharmacy to have the prescription changed before it was dispensed and apologised to her for the mistake. chop chop and out she goes, for real this time.

but apparently not. cibai. that bitch wrote in a complaint that she could potentially have been dead because i prescribed an allergic drug. but i changed it! i apologised! and going by her warped line of thinking, didnt i save her life then since i actually prevented potential death by changing the drug on time? crazy!

my first complaint letter! cibai. guess i should be lucky she cannot take any action because after all, no harm was done, but seriously! ungrateful bitch. i wish her a life of backache!

am about to leave for the night shift. a friday night at the ed beckons. i love friday nights and i love alcohol because that combination on irresponsible fuckers would give me things to do and learn. more traumas! so to all you fuckers out there thinking of having a friday night out, please drink and drive. please, i cannot emphasize this any more. drink and drive people. and when you do (and will) get into an accident, please dont die on the spot. come to our friendly ed and we would love to activate the trauma code where our friendly doctors would have a field day learning how to put in chest tubes, intubations, resuscitation, abdominal ultrasounds, intepreting challenging ct scans and xrays and the like. who needs textbooks when we have a whole population of young irresponsible people? fun for the whole family, finger licking good.

drink and drive people. drink! drive!

and crash.

or if youre too young to drive, all is not lost. no fear, you can still contribute to our learning process. you could drink and provoke a bunch of mean looking people who will beat you silly. if theyre holding weapons, all the better. try to find someone with a gun, havent seen a gunshot wound before. try cursing their mothers or better still, go pinch their girlfriends ass. pinch hard. but again, please, please dont expire on the spot, dont give the paramedics all the fun. come to our friendly ed and we will have f.., err, i mean we will save you. hopefully.

have a good friday night people.

sorry for the whining.

0231 hours

the regret starts now.