Code 3 for possible coroner’s case.
Check that – shortness of breath.
Sometimes I really wonder what people see with their eyes.
Anyway, at this upscale home with entitled rich people, we’re moving the patient from the floor to the gurney, and I disconnect her cannula from her home oxygen supply and connect it to our portable tank. Like I’ve done hundreds of times before, I instinctively follow the tubing back 30 feet around some corners to the bedroom.
“What are you doing? Don’t wake the baby!”
That was a relative of the patient shrieking at me.
I ignore her for a second, but my curiosity gets the better of me, and I kinda want to see what stupid thing I am going to hear next, so I poke my head around the corner back toward where the voice came from.
“Why would I wake the baby?”
Like I’m going back there to scream at the baby that I didn’t even know about. And then bang some pots together like cymbals.
“I’m turning off her oxygen. Is that OK with you?”
I don’t know about her, but I was raised to put stuff away when I’m done using it.
I really hope she notices the transparently fake smile.