Merry Christmas - You've Got Cancer, Bitch!

Havne't blogged much because I wrote it in Facebook

I don't know what you folks are doing for Christmas day, but my plans for tomorrow:

1. Arrive to work at 8 am so our chief resident can make fun of us for an hour.

2. Follow my attending around like a lemming for an hour.

3. Arrange a bone scan.

4. Call and whine for pathology results. (Although the pathology prof our attending designated is actually really really nice)

5. And if all goes as expected, I have to tell some old dude he's got lung cancer. That's metastatized to his skull.

Here's how this conversation should go:

Tony: "Good afternoon, Mr. [insert blank for patient confidentiality]. Merry Christmas! Good news, despite our pathology department's continued dedication to bureaucratic inefficiency, they managed to have your pathology results ready in two business days!"

Old guy: "That's good... right?"

Tony: "Well, good for me, because I can kick you outta and hand your old ass to oncology, because you have inoperable metastatized lung cancer! And you don't even smoke! I guess Jesus hates you, bitch!"

*note* The above conversation is a fictional dramatization of what will likely happen tomorrow. Solemn and respectful conversations make for bad blog posts.