THE NIGHT BEFORE CRANQMAS, BY DR. CRANQUIS
'Twas the night before Cranqmas, and all through the Urgent Care
Not a creature was stirring: no patients were there!
We’d been very busy but now it was Q-word.
(That’s “Quiet”, but we don’t dare announce it, ya’ heard?)
The staff were slumped over, worn out, in their chairs;
While visions of leaving on time danced through the air;
And Nurse in her smock, and I in my scrubs,
Had just called the pizza place to order some grub,
When out in the waiting room there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew, lickety-split,
Just in time to see some guy throw up through it.
The emesis on the breast of the still-heaving guy
Was black and smelled like something had died.
I glanced to the parking lot to see how he got here:
Just as I thought: he’d ridden a John Deere.
He slurred out his name in an accent so thick,
I didn’t quite catch it, so I nicknamed him Old Nick.
More rapid than eagles his retches they came,
And he wheezed, and he shouted, and he called us bad names:
"Now, ****er! You *****er! I’ll *** your ****!
Give me some Dilaudid, you **********!
Whaddaya mean, “Do I drink alcohol?”
I had a fifth of vodka today, maybe 2, that’s all.”
Now quick for an emesis basin my skillful nurse flew,
As the barf hit the floor, and Old Nicholas too.
And then in a twinkling, the emesis turned bright red —
Esophageal rupture: this dude was half dead!
As I reached for the phone and called 911,
He slumped to the floor — (oh joy, here comes the fun).
His eyes were so jaundiced! His breathing so shallow!
His cheeks and his nose pale as a marshmallow!
He had palmar erythema and a distended belly
That shook when he retched, like a bowl full of jelly.
Classic alcoholic cirrhosis, with Hep C probably,
So I pulled on some gloves to hopefully protect me.
A feel of his pulse, which felt thin as a thread,
Soon gave me to know I had plenty to dread;
He spoke not a word, just continued to hurk,
As we placed 2 IV’s and tried to make his heart work,
His blood pressure dropped as mine steadily rose,
But hark! Ambulance sirens! So glad to hear those!
The EMTs snatched him, slick as a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But then I heard him exclaim, as they drove out of sight—
“Hey it’s Cranqmas, y’all — can I have a Bud Light?”
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