Post by Evelynn on Jul 25, 2012 23:07:48 GMT -5
It's turning out to be a long day already, and Doctor Evelynn Black is already wishing that she could go home early-- and she's only four hours in. It's the night shift, what is quite possibly the worst shift in the emergency room, and she finds herself becoming steadily more and more busy with the progressing hours. After nearly getting spit on by a rather moody geriatric, yelled at by a family for discharging their elderly gomer, and better yet-- she has to avoid the clashing between security guards and a violent patient after overdosing on benadryl. And of course, someone else has to start something. There's always something. Nothing in the hospital ever seems to calm down for more than three minutes at a time.
And it's not even the full moon. Hah.
She makes her way into the doctors lounge for coffee, and instead finds two of the men standing a foot away from each other, arguing. One of them being her own attending that had seen her through her residency, and the other an unidentified surgeon that she had never met. She peers up at his breast pocket, where EIZEFETTI is stamped in large letters across his badge. The attending calls the surgeon a scalpel jockey, asks him if he has anyone to go slice up-- a clear indication to go away. The surgeon fires back but Lynn isn't paying attention anymore, and instead is staring straight ahead with tired eyes and a coffee mug in hand, walking between the two of them without so much as turning to face them. "Put the rulers away, boys." It's too late for such petty things.
She's only able to enjoy her coffee for the next three minutes until her pager goes off. With a huff she unclips it from her waist, looks at it and immediately is filled with dread. "Back to the ER." is her answer to the quizzical expression given to her by another doctor in the room. It's a minor call, and her first instinct is another ATS to waste her time. Setting her coffee down on the way out she strolls smoothly into the ER, past the small groups of doctors and the hoards of nurses and into one of the ER rooms,
And tries her best to ignore the smell of werewolf that soon overwhelms her senses.
"'Sup niqqa."
And it's not even the full moon. Hah.
She makes her way into the doctors lounge for coffee, and instead finds two of the men standing a foot away from each other, arguing. One of them being her own attending that had seen her through her residency, and the other an unidentified surgeon that she had never met. She peers up at his breast pocket, where EIZEFETTI is stamped in large letters across his badge. The attending calls the surgeon a scalpel jockey, asks him if he has anyone to go slice up-- a clear indication to go away. The surgeon fires back but Lynn isn't paying attention anymore, and instead is staring straight ahead with tired eyes and a coffee mug in hand, walking between the two of them without so much as turning to face them. "Put the rulers away, boys." It's too late for such petty things.
She's only able to enjoy her coffee for the next three minutes until her pager goes off. With a huff she unclips it from her waist, looks at it and immediately is filled with dread. "Back to the ER." is her answer to the quizzical expression given to her by another doctor in the room. It's a minor call, and her first instinct is another ATS to waste her time. Setting her coffee down on the way out she strolls smoothly into the ER, past the small groups of doctors and the hoards of nurses and into one of the ER rooms,
And tries her best to ignore the smell of werewolf that soon overwhelms her senses.
"'Sup niqqa."