Saturday, March 17, 2012

Playing with Bullets

"Excuse me, I wanna get your number so I could like call you about my care and stuff."
"I'm sure that we'll give you a lot of numbers for followup appointments for your care, Mr. Gunshot-wound."
"Well what I mean to say is can I get your number so we can like hang out and stuff?"
"Haha, aren't you a charmer?" I beamed him a smile and turned to finish stocking the trauma room.
"Wait till I become a doctor. Then maybe you'll talk to me when I'm like the one taking care of you."
I looked at him pointedly. "I'm going to get there first."

He grinned dejectedly, but seriously- I wasn't about to give my number to my young gunshot wound patient who was about to be discharged. The bullet was still lodged in his leg and they were not going to remove it via surgery. I wonder that he had the interest to ask me for my number a few hours after he just got shot.

I had to hand it to him, though, as I thought about him and laughed to myself on my way home. He was pretty smooth and definitely a young player in the making.