HOMELESS. DRUNK. HILARIOUS.

HOMELESS. DRUNK. HILARIOUS. ​

​Typing away at my computer one dreary Saturday night, trying desperately to catch up on my charting before the next wave of patients hits, I'm startled by some screaming at the far end of the ER.  I look to my right, and I see something that is pretty much the norm - a homeless man making a scene. He's a patient of the other physician that I'm working with tonight, and I'm filled in on a little bit of the action. The guy is absolutely obliterated, and was found face down in the middle of the street with his left eye swollen shut, a bunch of abrasions to his face, and no recollection of what had happened. So, like I said before, pretty much the norm. 

He's wearing a rigid cervical collar and a Canadian tuxedo - stone washed jeans and jean jacket - and he's wearing it well. He's coupled his tuxedo with one old boot, no shirt, and a scraggly grey beard that is matched in length and shabbiness only by the ring of 10 inch long hair that encircles his bald spot (a la Hulk Hogan circa 2008).  Maybe 130 pounds soaking wet. ​ The amount of shirts that he is wearing matches the amount of teeth that he has remaining in his Scope smelling mouth. For those of you that are a little slow, that number is zero.  

He's pretty much got everybody in the emergency department paying attention by now, as he's making such a scene. The other doctor is trying to reason with him, and having about as much success as you would expect seeing as how the guy's alcohol level is well over four times the legal limit. Then, his Oscar moment: ​

Doctor2: I understand that you are tired of waiting, sir, but the radiologist is still reading your scans, so it will be a short while longer before we can take off your collar and allow you to leave. 
​Patient: Get me the f**k out of here! If I wanted to be somewhere for eight hours, I'd get a job!

It is the first and only time that I have ever been a part of a standing ovation in the ER. Well done, sir. Well done. ​