My sister, the Brain Surgeon (BS), works at one of the area’s premier hospitals. (If you ever have the need for a BS and you live in the area, e-mail me and I’ll set you up with the best team.)
During a recent night shift which for her specialty is never a slow night, she was called to the trauma room. Once she evaluated her patient she was in a common area writing orders, labs, etc. It was a particularly busy night and one of the nurses asked if BS could check up on a couple of patients while she was in the area.
Trauma Nurse: Hey, I know we didn’t call you for this patient but while you are here, could you take a look?
BS: Sure, no problem.
TN: Okay, how about this guy over here?
BS: You’ve got to be kidding me? Fine.
TN: Just one more?
BS: Where is the gun??
Before she could finish her normal statement of “shoot me now,” the Secret Service agent who was accompanying the last patient quickly lowered the paper he was reading and was at full attention. The TN had to explain to him that this was the BS’s way of letting off steam. There was no gun and there would be no shooting.