Oops... my bad.

Let's not dwell on the fact that I haven't blogged for a while because I'm not ready as of yet to discuss that at length. There's the whole blog-move and the subsequent non-move to talk about, not to mention other shameless pursuits. We'll leave that to another time.

I just had to say that last night, I may have made a patient cry.

See, I'm a very nice person (generally, unless you go about attacking my friends because of some sort of psychotic delusion), so it stands to reason that I have never yelled at, berated or inflicted the full force of my sarcasm on a patient.

Anyway, I was on duty last night and a pregnant lady comes in for a checkup regarding her left big toe. She apparently had a pedicure the day before and while it was only painful yesterday, pus had started to ooze from just underneath her nail bed.

So I proceeded to ask her the basic questions. Have you had your tetanus shots during your prenatal checkups? What medications have you taken? Who is your obstetrician?

Then she kind of sputters and gives me a semi-blank look.

It turns out, she's not pregnant.

Well, in my defense she did look pregnant. She had the pregnant dress, the slightly overlarge abdomen of a woman in her second trimester, she came with a guy who I assumed was the father of her, as it turns out, nonexistent kid... By all appearances, she looked pregnant!

So, needless to say, I apologized profusely and then continued to do my doctor thing and prescribed the necessary medications. Then the heartless prick that was with her was snickering. And the girl looked like she was about to cry.

Like I said, my bad. (The heartless prick wasn't making her feel any better either.)

On a lighter note, all that drama reminded me of this scene from Two Weeks Notice.