Luck or Boobs?

Warning: This post contains the word boobs. Some of you may feel this is inappropriate for some viewers, reader discretion is advised. By way of short explanation, there are no boundaries of any sort between co-workers in the Emergency Department. Nothing is too personal, and really nothing is considered inappropriate to say or talk about. There is a running joke of sorts among those of us at work. It's the boobs. If a girl gets pulled over but gets out of the ticket, the guys are all convinced it's not the scrubs/fact that she works in an ER ...a get out of ticket free card, if you will ...it's the boobs. The boobs got her out of the ticket. Boobs apparently get us lots of free drinks, pretty things, out of tickets and trouble, extra time at bowling alleys that are closing, and in places that we would otherwise not be allowed into. We always just laugh, but lately I've been noticing, and it really is true. Being pretty and having boobs gets you a lot in life.

So, Vegas. Vegas was great! I got there Thursday afternoon and my friend Danielle picked me up from the airport. We drove to the Luxor where we'd be staying and meeting my friends from New York, Ken and Tricia, as well as Ken's girlfriend Sylvia. When we got there the girls were at some time share meeting to get cheap tickets to the cirque show Ka at the MGM Grand. So we chilled in the Hotel, chatted and got all caught up with Ken, then walked around to check out the hotel. It was a pretty nice place, but I do wish that Vegas would catch up with the rest of the world and prohibit smoking inside. It will never happen, but one can hope. So after a couple hours of laying on the bed, my tummy was starting to growl. Luckily, the girls' meeting was over so we headed out to dinner. We walked down the strip to BonAmiBagi, a french cafe a the Paris Hotel and Casino that has a patio outside right across the street from the water show at Bellagio. We had the most fabulous food there. We got baked cheese and roasted duck as appetizers and I go the most fabulous hamburger for dinner. It had brie on it and it absolutely melted in your mouth! So, after that, we walked around some more. After a while, Tricia ended up running into an old friend from college who just happened to have a VIP table reservation that night at Planet Hollywood. Good times were had by all. Much sleeping was also done after.

So the next morning, Danielle and I woke up and headed to breakfast at Excalibur, then to the pool. Ah, the pool. The pool at the hotel was fabulous. It was 80 degrees and sunny outside and there was water and fruity drinks involved. What's not to love? Oh, and they bring you the fruity drinks, right to your lounge chairs. Oh, and, people send you fruity drinks from across and around the pool area. Tricia and Ken joined us a couple hours later, and we swam and played and laid some more. 6 hours after arriving at the oasis, we left to go change and get ready for the night. 6 hours in the sun is surprisingly draining on Toni. So I got back up to the hotel room, showered and changed and Danielle and I went to maximize the rest of our all-you-can-eat-all-day buffet at Excalibur, while Ken Trish and Sylvie met up with some friends of Ken's from Pennsylvania. Danielle and I were going to meet them later, but it turns out we were too tired and just went to bed. So the next day, we went back to the pool to enjoy more 80 degree sunshine, fruity drinks, and chlorinated water. This time we only stayed for a couple hours. Had to at least get somewhat of a tan on the side that wasn't fried from the day before. So after we showered and changed this time, we went to Caesars palace where we ate some more yummy dinner. This is also where I won $300 playing blackjack. I don't really know how to play blackjack. I mean, I get the basic premise and the idea, but I'm no pro. I was ok with $300 :) I figured I better not push my beginners luck too far though. So we left and went exploring the Venetian. On this walk we were approached by some guy who offered us free VIP passes to see Fergie that night at Planet Hollywood. Who passes that up?! Not us!!! So, we got our armbands and went on our way. We ran into an old friend of Sylvie's and went with him to a dueling piano bar, which was AWESOME, then we went to Freemont Street. Old School Vegas. Like Frank old school. It was awesome! We hit up the gold diggers club in the Golden Nugget, and rocked it out for a while. Then it was time to head back for Fergie. As we were waiting for a cab, a limo pulls up to the curb, and asks if we want a ride. Sylvie takes point on this one, and negotiates a $30 stretch limo ride all the way back to our hotel (a $28 cab ride). So, I go on my first Limo ride to my VIP access Fergie at midnight concert. AWESOME!!!!! Fergie was great, dancing was great, this whole vacation rocks!!!! After the concert Trish got a message from Nick who we had met at the pool the day before, saying that he had a VIP room at a club at Paris with bottle service if we wanted to come join. Of course we want to come join! More awesome dancing! I'm never going home!!! We do go, however, back to the hotel to go to bed!!! By the time we got back Trish had to pack and leave for her 0600 flight back to NY --ugh --the rest of us crashed hard core. Morning came though, and Danielle had to get going for her drive back to UT. I had to get my stuff together for my afternoon flight to Seattle, and Ken and Sylvie had to get ready for their drive back to CA. It was so sad saying goodbye to everyone! It had been so good to see them all and to get to play with them again! Good thing we made plans for a Key West vacation in Oct.!!!

Apparently there is some volcano erupting in Alaska that has screwed up air flight routes all over the northwest. So after a 3 hour delay, I get home just in time to go to work. Yay. Welcome back to reality. Work wasn't bad though.

Now back to the beginning. So was all of our good fortune in Vegas luck? Was it boobs? Was it Karma for dealing with all the stupid people at work? Probably a good mix of the three. Depending on who you ask. If you ask the boys at work, it was the boobs. If you ask the girls that were there, we'd tell you it was luck and Karma. If you asked Ken, he'd ask you if it really mattered. And we'd all be right.

this is what I looked at for 6 hours a day :)

Danielle, Tricia, and Me poolside

Me Tricia Ken and Sylvia rockin on the balcony at the Gold Diggers Club at the Golden Nuggett

Ken Me Trish and Sylvie on my first limo ride!!

Checking Out

Yep, I'm checking out. As of today, I'm officially on vacation! I plan on doing nothing for the next three days but sitting by a pool and laying in the warm sunshine. I'm going to Vegas with a couple friends, and I am checking out of my normal life. I'm not bringing my computer, I'm not answering my cell phone, I'm checking out. Not to worry, I'll be back with a fabulous tan and lots of good stories! So till then, my friends! Have a good weekend!

Really?!?!?!?!

Apparently 68 hours of work in one week is too much for Toni. I'm becoming homicidal. I swear if I have to triage one more child with vomiting and diarrhea or female-of-child-bearing-age over-dramatic-female abd pain, I'm going to completely loose it. In the case of the n/v/d kiddos, it's called the stomach flu. It's called viral gastroenteritis. It's called your kid is freaking fine, stop force feeding them milk, try small sips of water/pedialyte/gatorade/insert any clear liquid here. They will get over it. It will go away. The fact that your child has thrown up for the last less-than-24-hours, and has had diarrhea for the same time is NOT an emergency. Kids throw up. So do adults. Put your child to bed, try SMALL sips of a CLEAR liquid, call the doctor in the morning if they're not better, and you still think they're dying any minute. That way your doctor's office staff can deal with your well child and I don't have to. That is what they get paid for. You know what I get paid for? Doing chest compressions, cracking open chests, stopping strokes and heart attacks, breathing for people who are not doing so on their own. Don't even get me started on the tylenol/motrin speech. They didn't want to take it? Did they want to have a seizure? That's your other option. They're 2. Who's the adult here?!!! Worse comes to worst, they have rectal tylenol at any drug store. It works.

Now for the stupid over dramatic females of child-bearing age. We are going to give you an IV. We are going to draw your blood. We are going to make you drink nasty stuff for a CT scan. We are going to send you for an ultrasound that will require pushing on your belly. We are perhaps going to have to put a catheter in to get a clean urine sample since 98% of the population seems incapable of getting a clean catch. And we will likely need to do a pelvic exam. It's going to happen. You came to the ER, this is what you get. This is not Burger King. You don't get it your way. You don't get to pick and choose what treatments you would like to have with your side of fries. If you already know what it is or precisely what you do and don't need to have done, do it yourself since you apparently have a medical degree. If you think you know what you have, great. Deal with it and call your doctor in the morning. They'll be much more likely to put up with your drama. Also, pain does not necessitate the making of sound. For the love of all that is good and holy. We know that you hurt. Making sounds for hours on end that would make a porn star blush while moaning profanities is NOT going to make us a) think you hurt any more than you are capable of telling us in a normal toned non-whining voice that you are, or b) get you to a room to be seen any faster. If you are not in the active end stages of labor, you absolutely do NOT under ANY circumstances need to make ANY noise!!!! The only sound I want to hear from you is your non-crying-non-whining rational voice telling me what precisely is going on. I can't type, I wahhahhha--ooohhhhh----wahhhhh ----ooohhhh in your triage note and the fact that you're taking 20 minutes to tell me you have had left upper quadrant pain for the last three weeks is doing nothing but delaying your treatment and the treatment of the 45 other people in the waiting room. You may grimace, you may be teary, this is ok, but sit up in the chair and tell me what is wrong in a manner that I can understand you so that we can fix it. You do not need to flop like a dead fish in my triage chair like a limp rag doll with no self control. You drove yourself here. You are capable of sitting in a reasonable manor.

That is all I have to say. Now I'm going to bed.

Utah State, hey AGGIES all the way!!

GO AGGIES! GO AGGIES! HEY! HEY! HEY!

I'm so proud! I have to give a quick shout out to my Ags!! 30-4, bring on the dance baby!!!

Way to stick it to those Reno loosers! It's about time! You owned that place!

Fair is fair...

Whenever people ask you to share a most embarrassing moment, I am always stumped. I just never have had one. Folks, I now have a most embarrassing moment. Warning: if you are male, you do not want to read this. It will be too much information. I debated even posting about this, but despite my complete mortification, it is a pretty funny story. So I'm owning it. I was embarrassed and now I'm sharing it with all of you in full-glory-bluntly-honest detail.

So there I was. Saturday night. I was at a party in the home of one of the nurses I work with. We were watching the UFC fight on Saturday, playing pool, eating food and having a generally good time. Bunches of people from the hospital and various fire departments were there. All was well, the fights were good, the food was good, the company was good. Come 1:00am everyone --including the host --was passed out in rooms or gone home. Everyone except me and one friend. We were cuddling on the couch watching replays of the fights we had missed earlier while we were shooting pool. I said to this friend with a flirty smile, "I had something to tell you earlier..." He asked what it was and I wink (I am a fabulous winker) and say teasingly, "I'm not sure I want to tell you any more." He replied, "Oh, yeah?" The next thing I knew, I found myself pinned to the couch and the tickling fight began. For the record, I honestly thought I was tough enough to get away from the wrestling, football-playing, fire-fighting Hawaiian. Not my smartest moment. I am VERY ticklish, and this friend knows this and uses it to his advantage. I don't think this is fighting fair. I gave escaping a effort though --And I have the sore muscles to show it! I twisted and turned with all my might, and I still lost. And really I'm okay with it :) I twisted the two of us right off the couch, he rolled the two of us into and nearly through the large wooden chest serving as a coffee table. I pushed the coffee table across the floor in my attempts to escape, and we ended up in a laughing heap wedged between a recliner chair and the wall. We took a break (he from the tickling, me from the escaping) to catch our breath. He said, "So, are you gonna tell me?" I just laughed and said, "Mmm, no." Resume tickling and escaping. Somehow, he ended up somersaulting the two of us out of the spot we were wedged in, I flipped over the top of him.

Warning number two. If you are male and still reading, this is where you want to stop. Trust me. You don't want to hear it. It's not worth it.

So I land on my back and resume giggling after a loud "umph." My friend sits up to make sure I'm ok, and says, "Uh, did you just pee?" I sit up confused, wondering if I hit my head harder than I remembered, and said, "No!"

**Seriously boys, you want to stop reading, final warning!**

So he looks at me and says, "Well then, time out for that time of the month!" Yeah. Apparently my period decided to come two days early, and I had been so into the party that I did not realize that I had already bled through my pants. Complete mortification sets in immediately. Needless to say, this effectively ends the flirting/tickling fight. I went to a bathroom downstairs that didn't have someone sleeping on it's floor, and counted my small amount of good fortune that Deana had supplies in the guest bathroom. When I returned to the TV room, my friend had found a bag of chips and container of dip that we had cleaned up earlier, and we resumed the re-watching of the fight with a chaste amount of space between us. My face is probably still red, I was so embarrassed.

Luckily, and by some small miracle, there wasn't a single ounce of awkwardness last night when we worked together. It felt like nothing had happened, and we talked and laughed like normal.

So there's my story. And yes, I miss the days when I honestly had nothing to say when people started talking about most embarrassing moments.

You don't own me!

Dear AmericanMobile:

Apparently I may not be so ready to stay in one spot permanently, says you. Apparently you don't "allow" the hospitals I work for to permanently hire me for at least 6 months after I have LEFT the hospital. They don't "allow" them?! Really? I am not a piece of property that you can tell what to do! I will work for who I want when I want, and you won't tell me any different. Apparently you don't know me very well after the past two years. You've got another thing coming if you think I'm going to put up with this! Thank you for your time.

Toni