Can I Tell You How Pissed I Am?
I am fucking pissed off tonight! This has been a horrible day (which seems rather selfish to say in light of the more serious trauma that the tsunami victims are experiencing, but tonight I am going to be selfish).
Let me list the things that went wrong today:
- I woke up with a headache.
- One of my co-workers told me that she's pregnant. (I actually dreamed about her telling me this a few nights ago. Hmmm…)
- I split my fucking pants from Chico's…the purple ones. They just wore away because of the massive inner thigh fat.
- And last, but best, I got yelled at by one of the guys from GI about my patient! And I truly mean yelled at.
I will spare you the gory details of the patient mess that led to my being yelled at, but the short of it is that I accepted a patient that should have been on the GI service. And when I tried to get GI as a consultant to do their fucking jobs, the attending physician told me off, saying that we (meaning adolescent medicine) do absolutely nothing! If I had done my job, he wouldn't have been in the middle of a battle between outside physician and parents over a feeding tube. “You guys do NOTHING,” he ranted.
“Is that so?” I countered.
“Yeah, NOTHING!” he yelled in response.
“This conversation is OVER!” I exclaimed before hanging up on him.
I thought I was going to explode. No one in my career had ever spoken to me like that. Sure, I've had words with others before, but I've never been treated with such utter disrespect by a colleague.
My boss happened to be in the conference room outside my office finishing a meeting. I came out and tersely said, “I need to speak to you.” When he came in and sat down I explained the whole thing and got so upset that I cried. “Do you know how fucking hard I work? How dare he?”
Don, of course, was supportive and refocused me toward the patient as priority, and not this GI jerk. “But he has no right to speak to me like that,” I spat. He agreed that Chris was totally out of line and said he would speak to his division chief about this outburst.
After Don left, I took another 5 minutes to compose myself. I didn't want to go into one of my self-blaming pity parties. As I walked to the elevator, I told myself “Fuck him!” By the time I reached the floor, I had a good mad-on going. How dare he? I repeated again and again in my head. Who the fuck does he think he is? Oh I was (and still am) hot!
They say that depression is anger turned inward. Lord knows I've suffered a lot of depression. Yet the one good thing about tonight is that my anger is clear, focused and targeted on one asshole from GI and not (for a change) on myself. It feels so healthy to be pissed as all hell, and rightfully so. How fucking dare he talk to me like that?
You know what? He can kiss my large, black, pants-splitting ass!
I'm going to bed.
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