Alright, they’ve gone too far.
I don’t ask for much, really I don’t. I come to work, I do procedures, I chart, I take call, I attend meetings and conferences, I send messages to hoards of people using e-mail, I teach. I do all that stuff doctors are supposed to do.
But I like my coffee.
And every day, I enter the cath lab break room and have a cup. Carefully brewed, always using 1 ½ packets of the coffee grounds supplied (need the extra ‘kick,’ you know), wait patiently for the brewer to deliver, then head on my way.
One small Styrofoam cup o’ Joe that I nurse ‘til its gone.
And I rushed off. I was in a hurry.
I needed to see a patient to see if they needed a pacemaker.
I walked up to the ward. Set down my coffee far from the computers, far from the monitors, and far from the patients’ rooms. Far from a place any mortal human being should be able to find. Then I reviewed the telemetry, used the jell goo on my hands and said “hi” to the patient. She needed the pacer after all. And then I returned to my cup.
But it was gone.
Gone, I tell you! I mean, who would do such a dastardly deed? Who’s messing with my psyche? My fix? Geez, I was just on call. Is this too much to ask? For goodness sake! This is a patient safety issue!
I looked around and saw her typing.
“Um, excuse me.”
“Uh, have you seen a cup of coffee that I left over here.”
“You didn’t throw it out did you?”
“Of course I did!”
“You didn’t hear?”