Please call the ER x2222Why are they calling me? I'm not on call.
A flash, then a clap of thunder outside.
"Your patient who you worked on a few days ago is here in the E.R...."
The mind races. You remember the case clearly. No problem at all. What could be going on? You ask twenty questions. You get twenty answers. All of the bases have been covered. "... doin' better now," your told. "We'll just admit 'em and you can see 'em in the morning." Hesitantly you return to bed, mind racing.
The lump of blankets next to you rolls over, "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," you lie. "Sorry, honey. Get back to bed."
The head meets the pillow but the brain does not. There are differentials to review. Seemingly infinite differentials. But it couldn't be that, they checked for that. What did I miss? Over and over again.
The thunder outside claps in unison with your mind. You wonder, maybe I should go in? What if they missed something?
The horror. The horror.
Over and over again. Maybe's. Doubting. Thunder.
Thirteen years into my trade and the hauntings, I've learned, are part of the job. Every doctor knows about the the 800-pound gorilla that watches us each day.
Sleep is his easy victim.