The pyjama drill

A loud shrilling noise drags me away from my much-needed slumber... What's going on?? Where am I ... and what on earth is that grating pandemonium?? ...

Ah yes, my phone ... I am on call tonight ...

I answer just in time. A dehydrated two-year old needs an IV infusion and the exhausted ER doctor's numerous attempts were unsuccessful. It's 1am.

Thank God it's not theatre! With a bit of luck, I can be back in bed in about an hour! Reluctance almost kills me as I roll out of bed. I put on my bright pink MAD DOGS tracksuit (which in my opinion is still in a respectable condition), my authentic NIKE's, wash my face and brush my teeth. I barely brush my hair, and don't bother with anything else eg make-up or contact lenses. At this hour it's speed vs elegance!! I do hear my dad's voice echoing around in my head though ... always look good when you leave the house, you never know who you might see .... grab my glasses and go!

My brisk walk across the parking lot towards the ER, is disturbed by loud calls?! It's the security guard!! And he is really upset!! Oh, what now??

Dr, whats wrong?? Are you alright?? Yes, I am fine, what are you making such a racket for??
Dr, how on earth could you came to the hospital in your pyjamas?? He doesn't wait for an answer, just barges on! In your pyjamas, I cannot believe it!! WHY??? What is SOOOOO urgent??
What are you talking about? This is a perfectly respectable tracksuit!! It's Mad dogs!! Do you even know what that is?? It's not exactly cheap you know!! And even if I was wearing pyjamas, what's it to you??

I march on feeling truly offended. It's after one in the morning for crying out loud! What did he want, my sunday best??

At least the parents of the little kid are too distraught to notice my unsuitable attire, and perhaps the sisters know better than to comment cause nobody says a thing. After settling the fiesty little screamer (and indirectly her mom) with some magical Barney juice (a touch of dormicum mixed in a bit of calpol, with the exact same shade of purple as the dinosaur), lady luck smiles my way. Despite what I am wearing .... the IV goes in on the first attempt. As always I say a little mental prayer of thanks, cause these drips have a sure way of keeping you humble at times.

Great, now I can dash off home!! But first I must pass via that security guard once again.... Ah, what the hell, I can do this!!

Hey doc, you can't leave yet, the gynae has just walked in. I told her you were here and it looks like she might need you. Ok, double great.

Back in the ER I notice a man hurriedly filling in an admission, and preop form. Is this for the gynae patient? Yes, she is my wife and it looks like a c/section. From somewhere behind me I hear, Sir, this is our anaesthesiologist. Oh man ...

I cringe a bit inside, (my dad's gonna have a fit if he ever hears about this), but pretend that my now infamous Mad Dogs, is actually Versace or something, and head down to theatre to change.

At least my blessed scrubs lend and air of control and comfort, even if they're a far cry from being elegant or fashionable. In fact they look worse than my pink trascksuit, but just because they are scrubs, that seems to make it ok??!!

Anyway halfway through the c/section the gynae asks if the kiddie is ok. Perplexed I tell her that she is just fine. The security guard told me that you had to get here stat, so you came in your PJ's? Well ... good news sure travels fast!! By tomorrow morning I will most probably have come to work in my underwear !! And I bet that sleaze-bag didn't even mention my state-of the-art NIKE's?? I coolly lift my eyebrow and say, I assume that you're intelligent enough not to fall for that, but rest assured that if the need ever arises, not even my pj's will stop me.....

I am soooooooooooooo going to kill that guy.............