The ICU has the best vending machines after the cafeteria.  I took advantage of a lull yesterday afternoon to dash over to get some candy.  There were no peanut M&Ms, but I spotted some Skittles.  They would do.  The vending machine held on my my Skittles.  The coast was clear, so I tried to give it a shake.  Nothing.  Some people might have taken that as a sign that they shouldn’t be buying Skittles the week they finally worked out more than two days in a row.  I decided that I needed two bags of Skittles. So I returned to the station for more money.

I started counting nickels and dimes when the phone started ringing.  I was in a hurry to free the dangling bag before someone else did, but I reached for the phone automatically.  I hate that I do that even though there are others in the station who clearly aren’t doing anything as important as I’m doing that moment.  Like  going on a candy run.

Feeling the pinch of time, I opened my mouth and said:

“How am I supposed to help you today?” 

  I froze.  I didn’t just say those words.  I used a tone.  There was silence on the other end for a beat.  Then I took an order from the physician. As I hung up the phone I turned to the nurse next to me.

“Did I just say…?”

“Oh, yeah.  You did.”

“I need some candy.  Now.”