T’was the week before Christmas
& all through the floor,
The Lasix was filling the foley’s galore.
Stockings were worn, to prevent emboli,
They came in two sizes: knee, and thigh-high.
The patients were nestled half-assed in their beds,
While visions of stool softeners danced in their heads.
We in our scrubs, and they in their gowns,
Fashions created to hide extra pounds.
When down in E.R. it became such a zoo,
They called with admissions, for me and for you.
They’re coming, they’re going, they’re looking the same,
My patience for patients is starting to wane.
Another call light is ringing, the patient expounds,
“I have not had my peri-care, please send someone down.”
About now delegation seems a good plan,
We pass onto others, the needs of this man.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Santa himself, and 8 tiny reindeer.
He states that he came from Central Supply,
To bring us LR, NS, and D5.
The doctor then scribbles what no one could read,
Orders instruct us to measure their pee.
As we try to decipher illegible words,
We find a new order to guaiac their turds.
The next shift arrives; our day is now through,
Only to discover emesis inside of our shoe!
We give them report and pass on the facts,
And tell them of duoderm lining the cracks.
And the Nurses exclaimed as they drove out of site,
Let there be Ambien for all, and to all a good night!
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