Just got home from a shift in ER2 where I worked like a stevedore. It started with a near crisis intervention: the doc on before me was almost in tears over a difficult dispo and we needed to talk her off the ledge. Then I just dove in and started grinding the meat. A whole lot of nothing special. I felt like I was moving pretty fast, and I didn't have any real land mines explode on me. But I still had the feeling of being behind the ball. At 0200 I was in the awkward position of having the ER1 guy pick up a patient in MY waiting room. It didn't feel right at the time and at shift end I sorted through my charts to see if i really had been as busy as I felt. Lets see: 5....10....15.....20.....25...26...27! In a 9 hour shift?! 3 patients per hour and not a sore ankle or med refill amongst the bunch. That's earning the paycheck! The Biscuit is with the Marines this weekend, and she took the baby with her--which means I have a 36 hours of being blissfully alone. The mother-in-law is with her babysitting which is so, so nice. UCLA v. USc game today. Could be ugly. U-561