I went into the residents’ locker room to change and saw Geri, an OB/GYN resident sitting in a chair in the corner, slurping down a cup of crappy coffee. “You okay, Geri?” I asked.

“I will be in approximately”—she looked at her watch—“fourteen minutes. As long as no more crazy mommies approach the ER doors in that time.”

“Long night?” I chuckled.

“Is it a full moon? Seriously. Is it? Because I had every momzilla in the DFW area come through the doors last night.” Do not ask, Blaire. It wouldn’t be ethical.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “Would you like me to pay off maintenance to accidentally lock the ER doors until your shift is over?”

“Oh, Blaire. Would you do that for me? You would be my very best friend,” she gushed, and I laughed. “First of all, I had one woman screaming down the place because her ‘birth plan had been violated.’ She needed an emergency c-section, but she really wanted to deliver vaginally, even if it meant it wasn’t safe for her baby. Because, and I quote, ‘My friend Carissa had a vaginal birth, so I can do it too.’ The poor husband was scared to death and just wanted his wife and baby to be safe.”

“Well, there’s nothing worse than a violated birth plan,” I said, nodding sarcastically.

“Right? And then we had one momzilla whose husband sent her roses, but apparently, she hates roses because dear hubby used to send them to his mistress. She yelled at Nurse Jen for ten minutes because she dared to bring the roses that her own husband ordered into her room.”

“Oh, dayum,” I muttered.

“And we can’t forget the drama mama who showed up claiming she was spotting. She was wailing and carrying on, hanging onto her boyfriend and acting like she couldn’t even walk.” My ears perked up, but I kept my lips clamped tightly together as she continued. “Blaire, there wasn’t even a trace of blood in her underwear, vagina, or cervix. She quieted down when I got her in the room alone and examined her, but as soon as I took her back out to the boyfriend, she started sobbing again. Swear to God, that woman deserved an Academy Award for best performance in a drama. Daddy was hot as fuck, though.”

Hmmmm, I wonder who that could be? There was absolutely nothing I could do with the information because of privacy laws, not that I would do that anyway. So, I just tucked the info away in my brain.

“Well, I hope you survive the next eleven minutes,” I told her. “I’m on ER this morning.”

“Good luck,” she mumbled, shooting her empty coffee cup across the room and directly into the trash can. “I think that was a three-pointer. Maybe my luck is turning around, and I’ll actually make it out of here in one piece.”