The End of Daze

Recently someone I work with was bitten by a rattlesnake. Not a twelve foot one either. A baby one. According to everyone I've told this story to, those are the worst kind. Although this may or may not be completely accurate, it still sucked. (for him of course, not me) The doctor told him, which most have been absolutely comforting, that "this is the first rattlesnake bite I have treated. Oh, and you may lose your finger, I got this off the Internet." Nice, good work on the bedside manner. However, if being a doctor only takes a thorough knowledge of wikipedia searches, I'm sittin' pretty for a degree in medicine.

Yes, Rock On Cobraman, Rock On.

Lucky for Don (the guy who was bit) he has a whole bunch of coworkers to visit him in the hospital and give him a hard time about getting bit. Someone gave him some gummi snakes, there were many poorly performed Steve Irwin impressions, and various other references to a job well done. But hey that's what friends are for.

The nurse was somewhat offended by our visits, but I don't think he quite understands how we work. If it had been us, Don would have been there doing the exact same thing.

There's something to be said about that. We are all there for each other. That's a good thing given the nature of our work. We need to be there. There were two others there with Don when he got bit. They smashed the snake with a sledgehammer. Score one for the blue team.