Car Washing, An Argument And Radiation

The neighbors must think that I'm mad. We got three inches of rain yesterday and during the worst of the downpour, I was washing my car. Contrary to popular opinion, rain is the perfect time to wash a car. When it's raining there is no need to dry the car. The rain rinses it clean without water spots.

Now I just need to do something about the filthy interior. There must be a quick and easy way to get dog slobber off the windows and fur, sand and dirt off the upholstery and carpet. It's tempting to open the doors and hose it out, but I would rather not short out the electronics. Well, there's not much point in cleaning it anyway. It will just dirty again.

Arriving at work, I had the unexpected pleasure of watching an argument in progress between my boss and another higher-up. It was about flowmeters. *giggle* My boss made the accusation that employees are stealing the flowmeters and selling them at flea markets. The other higher-up thought that idea was ridiculous because only hospitals have any use for flowmeters and what hospital (other than mine :) ) buys its equipment at flea markets?

The bickering continued until the higher-up on my side said that even if they are being stolen, they need to be replaced. Patients can't go without oxygen. (It's so much fun watching someone with more power and influence fight my battles.) I don't know how the problem will be resolved, but the person on my side is cozier with those at the top. This is turning out to be much more fun than I anticipated.

We have a radioactive patient in a lead-lined room and a secretary asked me if she could take a blanket into her because the patient called and said that she was cold. I told her not to go in there and that I would take care of it. She then offered to hold her breath. Again, I said no. Then she wanted to wear a paper mask. For goodness sakes, the patient is in a lead-lined room. Did she really think that holding her breath or wearing a paper mask would protect her? Some people are scary. Sweet, but scary. The patient got her blanket using proper protocol, which did not involve paper masks or holding my breath.