I loathe Mondays. Always have–probably always will. At least until I retire. Or start living under a rock. Or switch to Geico.
But this particular Monday–MOANDAY if you will–was particularly heinous.
Normally, when we start a week of call in our practice, you get the Friday before and then Monday morning off. It’s kind of the calm before the storm, so to speak.
But on this day, the first day of call, I did not get the morning off. Due to a scheduling “quirk” my staff already had me booked with patients this morning. Twenty to be exact. So sorry. Someone else’s bad.
So I owe, I owe and off to work I have to go. Yes–in this economy I should just be thankful I have a job. I’m sorry but the pundits have it wrong. This economy should be thankful I still do my job. And pay my taxes to support it.
It’s cold and rainy. Rainy days and Mondays always get me down. Monday’s alone do that. The rain is just fat-free frosting on a stale, moldy cake. And someone left the cake out in the rain . . . But I digress.
The fire alarm went off while I was examining a patient. Now I don’t care how many times in your life you have participated in a fire drill, there is always general confusion when the alarm goes off unexpectedly.
Is it real? Is it just a malfunction? Did a staff member pull it just to get a cigarette break? Was someone taking their break in the bathroom?
You just don’t know. Will someone break me off a piece of that Kit Kat bar and just give me a break?!
And worse yet, if you don’t do anything–and it’s not a false alarm–you’re screwed. If you are lucky enough not to be burned alive, you’ll likely finance some lawyer’s new yacht, his kid’s college education, and probably his time share in the Bahamas because you didn’t do what you were supposed to do.
And what are you supposed to do?
Make ninety year old ladies stand out in the rain with the stale cake? It’s not only raining, but it’s cold. It’s supposed to be October, but Mother Nature is PMSing right now in central Pennsylvania and it feels like December. My patients will likely come down with pneumonia. I’m pretty sure someone will choke on the stale cake even if it is soggy now.
So we all gathered in the waiting room, sniffing the air for smoke and hoping that the sprinkler system required by law wouldn’t malfunction as well. We didn’t sniff too hard, because, well, it was a room full of older people. We sang Kum Ba Yah. If we weren’t so afraid of activating the sprinkler system, or blowing up a colostomy bag, we could have started a fire and made smores.
Thankfully, there was no fire. A sensor in some heating duct went off, probably because the heat kicked on for the first time since last Spring. Did I mention that it was unseasonably cold? The firemen came. They checked things out. They sang with us.
But now I am further behind than I normally am.
And unfortunately, the further behind I get the longer this Moanday lasts.
I hate that.