A sandwich

They catered in lunch for a staff holiday party this afternoon. Sandwiches, soda, some cookies. I'm rounding on a couple of patients an hour later, and I get to the room with my two cirrhotic diabetics-- low salt diets, etc--

And they each have a sandwich in their hands and a can of Coke on their bedside tables.

"Uh... where'd you get that food?"

"Seemed like there was a party."

"The party wasn't for the patients. You shouldn't be eating that."

"Come on, doc. What's it gonna do, kill us?"

"Uh... what if I said yes?"

"I'd eat it anyway."

* * *

An hour later, their nurse pages me.

"BP is 90/50, what should I do?"

"Um... I'll come by again. What did it drop from?"

"Drop from? No, it was 61/41 half an hour ago."

"Excuse me-- I think I misheard you. Did you say 61? Six-one?"

"Yes, doctor."

"Why didn't you call a rapid response?"

"There were no symptoms?"

"You mean he wasn't dead?"

"I don't know."

"So 60/40 you ignored, but 90/50 and you call me?"

"Yes, doctor."

"I'll be right there."

* * *

"So you think it was the sandwich that caused the blood pressure to drop?"

"No."

"So I can eat another sandwich? I put one in my closet."

"No."

"Come on, why not?"