RustedFox

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I had a bad experience the other day. I will spare you no detail.

Before I get into my penitence, I gotta say this:

"Hey; hospitals - there is ZERO reason for your food to be this bad."

6am shift the other day. How I got scheduled for a 6am shift is a mystery to even the man that wrote the schedule. At my shop, we have four shifts:

6am-2pm (Morning shift)
10am-8pm (Second shift, or "second base [2B]", if you will)
2pm-10pm (Shortstop [SS]; 90% of our docs are baseball guys, so we have the "middle infield" of 2B/SS)
9pm-6am (Night shift)

(For those readers who don't speak baseball, second basemen and shortstops are often interchangeable, and play very similar roles. Often, the only discerning attribute is "who can throw to first base faster". The faster man goes to SS, and the tankier man goes to 2B.)

Here are the house rules.

"Old Men" work the morning shift. We have three docs that are 60+. One is the former director. They like these shifts because they're easy. They get them. These hours are procedure-poor, and its not unusual to have an Old Man sign-off that 9:12 am patient who might need a reduction or a central line to the 2B.
"Young Men" play 2B/SS interchangeably. I am one of these 2B/SS types, both at work, and on the diamond (I am the archetypal nimble second baseman who will dive for ground-balls because "I'll bounce in the right direction, generally". Dad played third base by trade. He was one of those "suicidal" third baseman that kept walking towards the plate.... because...
"Night-rangers" work the nightshifts, and we need ONE more night-ranger. Because we don't have one more night-ranger, the 2B/SS men all take a piece of the nights.

Through some perversion of scheduling, I found myself working an Old Man shift late last week.

5:15 AM - "Buzz. Buzz. Buzz." Alarm rings. Pretty sure I got four, maybe five hours of sleep because the thought of: "Oh $hit, I have to wake up early, so I better go to sleep early and be a good boy" led to me getting under a sheet at 9:45 and then turning over every :38 minutes until 1:14 AM, at which time I pooped, and took two benadryl.

5:22 AM - "My freaking knees hurt. I'll just sit down in the shower and let the hot water hiiit theemmm....zzz....."

5:38 AM - "Whoaaa! How long have I been asleep for?!"

5:39 AM - "Brush my teeth, hop in scrubs, remember to.. do the ...thing, with the, stuff."

5:58 AM - "Good morning, offgoing NightRanger; what impossible dispositions have you left me?"

6:55 AM - "I'm starving. When does the cafeteria open?... 9 AM? ... Okay."

8:56 AM - *BANG BANG BANG BANG* - "Open the freaking door, amigo! - Everything is ready and out. Don't ACT like you can't SEE me here!"

So, I got three strips of bacon; I took an English Muffin and split it down the middle to make room for two sausages. I would add cheese, if the cheese available were any good (no; yellow American cheese from SYSCO is NOT good). Oh, and I saw a whole two patients from 6-9 AM. One was a senior that fell out of bed. The other was... like, itchy, and stuff.

The bacon, if you could call it that, was a gram of grease and a whistle of gristle per bite. I held a strip up to the light. I could see thru it, yet it was heavy enough to keep it's shape and not crackle near my grip.

Nevermind. OHM. Nom. nom.

Grabbed the sandwich next. The grease-to-protein ratio was improved, but on two distinct and separate occasions, I spat out (politely, into my napkin'd fingers) a small stone and looked carefully at it to determine whether it was simply cartilage, or part of an old dental filling (I have awful molars; and my dad was a dentist).

I finished what I could, and got back to work.

WHEEEE-wooo-WHEEE-wooo.


Freaking county EMS decided to bring me ALL the septic patients that "woke up with a fever" at 9:12 AM. In their defense: they got it right...they all met criteria, and 2 of them were "sick".

I central line'd the sicker grandma tout-suite, the other one actually HAD a peripheral before she lost it because she is the crypt keeper, and "has no veins".

Charge Nurse: "HEeey (sic); Dr. SecondBaseman is going to be a few minutes late because more reasons and I like granola and here's a picture of my daughter."

Not knowing how 'late' the 2B would be, I lugged my Sonosite to the other room and plugged another IJ in OtherGrandmaWhoNeedstoDie.

I wasn't mad when Dr. 2B got there. Traffic is hell around my neck of this city because they're putting in a new overpass. He was like, :18 minutes late because they had to drive a freaking crane across the highway to erect highway signs. I get it.

Dr. Secondbase says: "Dude; don't pick up a single patient. I got this."

Radio: "Medic Eleventeen to GulfPalmGeneral; Cardiac Arrest - 5 minutes out."

"I got that, homey."


"Aye-aye, amigo" - was my response.

Fires burned.
Fires were put out.

After all the true emergencies were cared for, Dr. 2B and I high-fived. I had to jump to give him a high-five, because I am a short man (5'6'', 5'7'' with my shoes on).

"Dude... you don't look good. You.. okay?"

I felt that rumble. I felt the water brash. I smelled the smell.

I booked it for the staff bathroom and plugged in the code "5-1-5-0!" as fast as I could.

Retch.

Retch.

REEEEETCH.

Plop.

There, in the toilet, was a bizarre sun-diagram. Orange bits about the perimeter of a central region of clearing, measuring approximately 4-5cm in maximal diameter (this is how I chart my laceration repairs). In the center, was the immistakable double-glop of... oil. Grease. Fat. Whatever. The perimeter was thin (maybe 2-3mm at maximal diameter), but the center was GLOP-glop-GLop (the third globule had broken off).

I retched twice more with identical results.


...


...


...


ATTENTION ADMINISTRATORS:

Eat in the cafeteria.
Every day.
Yes, I'm talking to you, Mister CEO, CFO, COO, CXO, XCXO, XOXOX, whatever.
If you need to walk away and order something else...
then you have a problem to fix.
Time to forego that Q3 bonus, amigo.


 
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sloh

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Just want to say I'm PM&R and one of the reasons I frequent the EM forums is to read your posts. I love the cynicism and the unadulterated truth about the patient populations we see (even considering the massive differences between EM and PM&R.)
 
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NYEMMED

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I don't get it. Some hospitals have great cafeterias. Many have horrible cafeterias...
 
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RustedFox

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Just want to say I'm PM&R and one of the reasons I frequent the EM forums is to read your posts. I love the cynicism and the unadulterated truth about the patient populations we see (even considering the massive differences between EM and PM&R.)
Same. I'm podiatry and I love your post and the EM forum lol.

Thanks, amigos. Banging out these things is a way of dealing with frustration for me. It helps me, really does.
In a world in which we've let sensitivities get in the way of sensibilities, this is a great pressure blow-off valve.
 
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thegenius

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My hospital serves these fried cheese-stuffed jalapeno peppers and they are



They also serve a Moroccan Chick Pea Spice Salad that is





The rest of their food is just

 
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RustedFox

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"Fried cheese-stuffed jalapeno peppers"
"Moroccan chick-pea Spice Salad"

Maaan.
I and others on here may occasionally mock you (in good spirit) for being a NorCal hippie type, but damn...

That sounds like good eatin'.

I'm calculating my escape from the United States Capital of Old People as I type.
 

thegenius

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We'd get along just fine. I don't smell and I listen to the GD, and I'm somewhat of a minimalist in the ED. Lots of similarities. Just don't go Veers on me with respect to the necessity of killing my grandma and grandpa (wait...they are already dead)...umm...killing my mom and dad so 48 yo bubba joe can maximize his profit selling his cheap-ass lawn furniture. My Mom and Dad are excellent contributors to the retirement community, and my dad plays pickleball every day. My mom is good at bridge.

I would say based on everything I read here, my place of work is better than average compared to other sites. Not great. Two problems we have are 1) northern California and CA in general is "just a touch" to liberal to say the least. But there are pockets of reason. 2) our hospitalists can be a pain to work with.

Now, back to the issue at hand.

You want some of these?

and this?


C'mon on down to the Price is Right! And did I tell ya it's free?
 
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RustedFox

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We'd get along just fine. I don't smell and I listen to the GD, and I'm somewhat of a minimalist in the ED. Lots of similarities. Just don't go Veers on me with respect to the necessity of killing my grandma and grandpa (wait...they are already dead)...umm...killing my mom and dad so 48 yo bubba joe can maximize his profit selling his cheap-ass lawn furniture. My Mom and Dad are excellent contributors to the retirement community, and my dad plays pickleball every day. My mom is good at bridge.

I would say based on everything I read here, my place of work is better than average compared to other sites. Not great. Two problems we have are 1) northern California and CA in general is "just a touch" to liberal to say the least. But there are pockets of reason. 2) our hospitalists can be a pain to work with.

Now, back to the issue at hand.

You want some of these?

and this?


C'mon on down to the Price is Right! And did I tell ya it's free?


I'll take both.

But getting back to my original post.

For REAL, hospital admins.

Breakfast shouldn't be a choice between "Grease", "Less Grease", "MORE Grease and protein", or "This breakfast sandwich that we re-heated and put in foil-wrap.

It's a freaking HOSPITAL caf-e-TERIA.

It shouldn't be on-par for a "food truck" outside an open pit mine.


I'm not sure who to blame more; the hospital admins, or the general BOOMER populace that will happily suck grease thru a straw.
 

PTPuser

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Thanks, amigos. Banging out these things is a way of dealing with frustration for me. It helps me, really does.
In a world in which we've let sensitivities get in the way of sensibilities, this is a great pressure blow-off valve.

Lmao, the ER is a special kind of hell. Everytime I'm there I do what I need and run out lol. I'm surprised you guys don't have Panera or Au bon Pain in your hospital. We have it here unless it's a New England thing.
 

Tenk

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I had a bad experience the other day. I will spare you no detail.

Before I get into my penitence, I gotta say this:

"Hey; hospitals - there is ZERO reason for your food to be this bad."

6am shift the other day. How I got scheduled for a 6am shift is a mystery to even the man that wrote the schedule. At my shop, we have four shifts:

6am-2pm (Morning shift)
10am-8pm (Second shift, or "second base [2B]", if you will)
2pm-10pm (Shortstop [SS]; 90% of our docs are baseball guys, so we have the "middle infield" of 2B/SS)
9pm-6am (Night shift)

(For those readers who don't speak baseball, second basemen and shortstops are often interchangeable, and play very similar roles. Often, the only discerning attribute is "who can throw to first base faster". The faster man goes to SS, and the tankier man goes to 2B.)

Here are the house rules.

"Old Men" work the morning shift. We have three docs that are 60+. One is the former director. They like these shifts because they're easy. They get them. These hours are procedure-poor, and its not unusual to have an Old Man sign-off that 9:12 am patient who might need a reduction or a central line to the 2B.
"Young Men" play 2B/SS interchangeably. I am one of these 2B/SS types, both at work, and on the diamond (I am the archetypal nimble second baseman who will dive for ground-balls because "I'll bounce in the right direction, generally". Dad played third base by trade. He was one of those "suicidal" third baseman that kept walking towards the plate.... because...
"Night-rangers" work the nightshifts, and we need ONE more night-ranger. Because we don't have one more night-ranger, the 2B/SS men all take a piece of the nights.

Through some perversion of scheduling, I found myself working an Old Man shift late last week.

5:15 AM - "Buzz. Buzz. Buzz." Alarm rings. Pretty sure I got four, maybe five hours of sleep because the thought of: "Oh $hit, I have to wake up early, so I better go to sleep early and be a good boy" led to me getting under a sheet at 9:45 and then turning over every :38 minutes until 1:14 AM, at which time I pooped, and took two benadryl.

5:22 AM - "My freaking knees hurt. I'll just sit down in the shower and let the hot water hiiit theemmm....zzz....."

5:38 AM - "Whoaaa! How long have I been asleep for?!"

5:39 AM - "Brush my teeth, hop in scrubs, remember to.. do the ...thing, with the, stuff."

5:58 AM - "Good morning, offgoing NightRanger; what impossible dispositions have you left me?"

6:55 AM - "I'm starving. When does the cafeteria open?... 9 AM? ... Okay."

8:56 AM - *BANG BANG BANG BANG* - "Open the freaking door, amigo! - Everything is ready and out. Don't ACT like you can't SEE me here!"

So, I got three strips of bacon; I took an English Muffin and split it down the middle to make room for two sausages. I would add cheese, if the cheese available were any good (no; yellow American cheese from SYSCO is NOT good). Oh, and I saw a whole two patients from 6-9 AM. One was a senior that fell out of bed. The other was... like, itchy, and stuff.

The bacon, if you could call it that, was a gram of grease and a whistle of gristle per bite. I held a strip up to the light. I could see thru it, yet it was heavy enough to keep it's shape and not crackle near my grip.

Nevermind. OHM. Nom. nom.

Grabbed the sandwich next. The grease-to-protein ratio was improved, but on two distinct and separate occasions, I spat out (politely, into my napkin'd fingers) a small stone and looked carefully at it to determine whether it was simply cartilage, or part of an old dental filling (I have awful molars; and my dad was a dentist).

I finished what I could, and got back to work.

WHEEEE-wooo-WHEEE-wooo.


Freaking county EMS decided to bring me ALL the septic patients that "woke up with a fever" at 9:12 AM. In their defense: they got it right...they all met criteria, and 2 of them were "sick".

I central line'd the sicker grandma tout-suite, the other one actually HAD a peripheral before she lost it because she is the crypt keeper, and "has no veins".

Charge Nurse: "HEeey (sic); Dr. SecondBaseman is going to be a few minutes late because more reasons and I like granola and here's a picture of my daughter."

Not knowing how 'late' the 2B would be, I lugged my Sonosite to the other room and plugged another IJ in OtherGrandmaWhoNeedstoDie.

I wasn't mad when Dr. 2B got there. Traffic is hell around my neck of this city because they're putting in a new overpass. He was like, :18 minutes late because they had to drive a freaking crane across the highway to erect highway signs. I get it.

Dr. Secondbase says: "Dude; don't pick up a single patient. I got this."

Radio: "Medic Eleventeen to GulfPalmGeneral; Cardiac Arrest - 5 minutes out."

"I got that, homey."


"Aye-aye, amigo" - was my response.

Fires burned.
Fires were put out.

After all the true emergencies were cared for, Dr. 2B and I high-fived. I had to jump to give him a high-five, because I am a short man (5'6'', 5'7'' with my shoes on).

"Dude... you don't look good. You.. okay?"

I felt that rumble. I felt the water brash. I smelled the smell.

I booked it for the staff bathroom and plugged in the code "5-1-5-0!" as fast as I could.

Retch.

Retch.

REEEEETCH.

Plop.

There, in the toilet, was a bizarre sun-diagram. Orange bits about the perimeter of a central region of clearing, measuring approximately 4-5cm in maximal diameter (this is how I chart my laceration repairs). In the center, was the immistakable double-glop of... oil. Grease. Fat. Whatever. The perimeter was thin (maybe 2-3mm at maximal diameter), but the center was GLOP-glop-GLop (the third globule had broken off).

I retched twice more with identical results.


...


...


...


ATTENTION ADMINISTRATORS:

Eat in the cafeteria.
Every day.
Yes, I'm talking to you, Mister CEO, CFO, COO, CXO, XCXO, XOXOX, whatever.
If you need to walk away and order something else...
then you have a problem to fix.
Time to forego that Q3 bonus, amigo.


Could go for a good ol Blimpies right about now.
 
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NYEMMED

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Read the last paragraph again.

No No. I get your post 100%.

I meant I don’t get how hospitals can have such bad food and admin says nothing...
It’s just hard to hear the sarcasm on here...LOL
 
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RustedFox

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6:29 AM.
At it again, here on the Old Man shift.
God, I hate this shift.
 
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I'll take both.

But getting back to my original post.

For REAL, hospital admins.

Breakfast shouldn't be a choice between "Grease", "Less Grease", "MORE Grease and protein", or "This breakfast sandwich that we re-heated and put in foil-wrap.

It's a freaking HOSPITAL caf-e-TERIA.

It shouldn't be on-par for a "food truck" outside an open pit mine.


I'm not sure who to blame more; the hospital admins, or the general BOOMER populace that will happily suck grease thru a straw.

Back in residency, whenever I finished my "24 hour" trauma/MICU/SICU/PICU/CVCU shifts I always made it a point to go down to the cafeteria and stuff my face with the greasiest, unhealthiest hot breakfast food they had that day. Pancakes with butter and syrup, bacon, sausage, ham, tater tots, french toast, you name it. That cafeteria food was the sole bright light in what were some of the darkest months of residency and because of that I remember it fondly. So don't blame the boomers; from where I'm standing, this is possibly be the only thing they haven't ruined (yet).
 
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It's a freaking HOSPITAL caf-e-TERIA.

It shouldn't be on-par for a "food truck" outside an open pit mine.

We had a food truck parked outside our hospital every day. Food was better and cheaper than anything the hospital could offer.
 

RustedFox

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Back in residency, whenever I finished my "24 hour" trauma/MICU/SICU/PICU/CVCU shifts I always made it a point to go down to the cafeteria and stuff my face with the greasiest, unhealthiest hot breakfast food they had that day. Pancakes with butter and syrup, bacon, sausage, ham, tater tots, french toast, you name it. That cafeteria food was the sole bright light in what were some of the darkest months of residency and because of that I remember it fondly. So don't blame the boomers; from where I'm standing, this is possibly be the only thing they haven't ruined (yet).

I used to do the same.
It was all about the potatoes for me.
Man, I love some good home fries.
 
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thegenius

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Hash Browns are my favorite way to eat potatoes.
Hash Browns and French Fries

When our cafeteria serves hash browns, I also get a second helping.
 
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RustedFox

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Okay, this is a good place for this:
The terms "hash browns" and "home fries" mean different things in different regions.
I've seen each called "the other" in my travels.

"Hash Browns" are shredded potatoes.
"Home Fries" are sliced potatoes or fingerling potatoes.

That's what I'm used to. YMMV.
 
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thegenius

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I'm with you on hash browns. I'm surprised they can be something else.



Delicious.

It's fun posting pictures.
 
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BoardingDoc

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Okay, this is a good place for this:
The terms "hash browns" and "home fries" mean different things in different regions.
I've seen each called "the other" in my travels.

"Hash Browns" are shredded potatoes.
"Home Fries" are sliced potatoes or fingerling potatoes.

That's what I'm used to. YMMV.
Where the hell did you encounter people applying the names backwards? I really don't think that's a "regional thing" so much as "you've met people before who have somehow confused hash browns and home fries."

Seriously, if you google image search "hash browns", you get a million pictures of hash browns. You get zero pictures of home fries (and vice versa).
 
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southerndoc

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We had a food truck parked outside our hospital every day. Food was better and cheaper than anything the hospital could offer.

That's one thing I really miss about residency. About 10-15 food trucks would set up outside the medical school during lunch. You could step outside the ER and grab Chinese, Vietnamese, barbeque, etc. It was awesome.
 
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Apollyon

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That's one thing I really miss about residency. About 10-15 food trucks would set up outside the medical school during lunch. You could step outside the ER and grab Chinese, Vietnamese, barbeque, etc. It was awesome.
Sounds awesome! What's interesting is that food trucks didn't erupt into popularity until 2008 (although the idea is over 100 years old). To have that many available when you were in med school (sorry to "doxx" you, but, you're old now) is remarkable.
 

gutonc

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We had a food truck parked outside our hospital every day. Food was better and cheaper than anything the hospital could offer.
I miss very little about med school except the street meat truck parked out in front from ~10a-2a every day. Lamb shwarma FTW!
 
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RustedFox

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Where the hell did you encounter people applying the names backwards? I really don't think that's a "regional thing" so much as "you've met people before who have somehow confused hash browns and home fries."

Seriously, if you google image search "hash browns", you get a million pictures of hash browns. You get zero pictures of home fries (and vice versa).


You're probably right. This was in/around the Asheville/Chattanooga and blue ridge mountain regions last year.
Breakfast is a big deal for us on vacations, so I was flummoxed as to why I kept getting hash browns when I ordered home fries.
 
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CajunMedic

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The terrible cafeteria food should have been my first warning that my hospital was in trouble before it closed. I knew I wasn’t in the Deep South anymore, but how do you screw up biscuits and gravy?


Sent from my iPhone using SDN
 
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The terrible cafeteria food should have been my first warning that my hospital was in trouble before it closed. I knew I wasn’t in the Deep South anymore, but how do you screw up biscuits and gravy?

Sent from my iPhone using SDN

Biscuits and gravy is difficult to mess up, but when they find a way to mess up bacon you know you are truly screwed.
 
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