Hot Dog

I get paged down to the ER for my new admission.  An obese, middle-aged woman, complaining of chest pain, who they've decided to cath.  I get down there... and they can't find her.  "Oh, maybe she went to the bathroom."  Okay....  Let me know when you find her.  I head back upstairs.  Five minutes later they page me. "And we're thinking there might be a problem, she doesn't look good."

I run back down and meet her, and she's sweating profusely, just dripping.  So we're obviously alarmed, although she isn't.  We ask her what happened, is she in pain, was she in the bathroom...?

"You weren't feeding me anything."

"Yeah-- so?"

"So I went outside and got myself a couple of hot dogs from the street vendor."

"You did what?"

"I was hungry.  I got some hot dogs.  Shoved them down.  Raced back here.  That's why I'm out of breath."

"You're getting cath'ed tomorrow.  You can't eat hot dogs!"

"I was hungry!"

"And you can't leave the hospital."

"You're supposed to feed me."

"We don't feed people in the waiting room."

"Well, you should."

I'm feeling really good about the prognosis here.