Tuesday

Fear and Loathing in the IV room

Well, it's not all that dramatic. But the new job requires a lot of attention and if you goof around, extremely sick people (and baby people) get the wrong drugs. Then if they die, it's your fault, which is to much for my battered conscience to sustain. In IV you can easily poke yourself with a needle delivering amazing amounts of extremely toxic chemotherapy "drugs", which instead of curing cancer, can actually cause it. Terrible things are almost happening all around you. The room threatens to take on an ugly vibe. We had a hundred vials of morphine, fifty vials of fentanyl citrate, a galaxy of multi-colored uppers and downers, and enough cocaine to wipe out all the hookers in Los Angeles. Really, we did, and we do. But enough of the Hunter Thompson garbage. And enough of this. The new job is a good job, so don't ask me to steal you anything.

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