I HATE On-Call Weeks!

So does Pete.  He was on-call this week, Tuesday through Tuesday.  Normally, when he is on call, he has to go in to work once, maybe twice.  This time was a little different.  It was like the planets in the dental universe weren't aligned, and Pete just happened to be the receiver of the bad luck.

He went on-call last Tuesday at 4:30.  On his way home from work, he got his first call at 5:30, and was gone about 3 hours.  

Wednesday he got lucky and was not called in.  

Thursday he was called in at about 7:30 p.m. and was gone for about 1 hour.  

Friday he didn't have to go to work, but was called in at about 5:30 p.m. and was gone for about 4 hours.

Saturday, he was called in as we were leaving the gym, around noon, and got home about 2 hours later.

Sunday, he was called in at 9:05 a.m., 5 minutes after church started.  On his way home, as he rounded the corner to our house (this is about 4 hours later), he gets called again.  Luckily, he only had to call in a prescription for that patient, and didn't have to go in.

Sunday night, as he got into bed at 11:00, the pager went off again.  He went in, and to his surprise, he had two patients.

Monday, even though it was a holiday, he was NOT called in.  Halle-freakin-lujah. 

The thing that was SO frustrating was that the majority of these patients had been in pain for weeks, and decided at random times in the evening, or the middle of the night, they needed to see a dentist.  GGGRRRRRR.

Also, in the middle of one of his exams, a nurse informed Pete that the patient might have scabies.  He came home at 4 in the morning and washed all of his clothes, and showered.  

What a fun week.

I am so glad Pete decided not to be a surgeon or a doctor.  Thanks, babe!