My patient yesterday was really starting to make me uncomfortable. And we spent a significant amount of quality time together because I had to do a dressing change on him and pretty much the exact second I finished it, the attending walked in and undid everything to look at the wound and then told me to re-dress it. (He also neglected to say "please" or "thank you.")
Patient: You are such a cutie.
Me: Uh, thanks
Patient: No, I mean it. I always wanted to marry a beautiful young girl like you.
Me: Bend your elbow a little more.
Patient: So I'm getting discharged today, right?
Patient: I don't think I have a ride home
Me: I'll talk to social work about it.
patient: Why don't you just give me a ride home?
Me: Because I have to stay at work for a while longer
Patient: I'll wait for you. And if it's easier, we can go back to your place and I can just stay there for a while.
Me: I don't think that's going to work out too well.
Patient: Why not? I can keep you up all night if you want.
Me: Straighten out your fingers.
Patient: So why can't I go home with you? I'm really trying to court you, in case you haven't noticed.
Me: OK, one more layer of ace wrap and then we're done
Patient: I just want to live with you. We don't have to have sex right away if you don't want. But I bet you haven't had really good sex for a while.
Me: OK, don't get the bandage wet. See you later.
Patient: So we're not going to have sex at your place? Do you want to have sex here?
Me: Have a good afternoon.
I was telling a male resident friend about this and he said he was jealous because his patients never seemed to want to have sex with him. I told him if he wanted my married hepatitis-C positive unemployed heroin addict without teeth and status-post flesh-eating bacteria infection, he was more than welcome to him.
As for me, I really think I can do a little bit better.