Long day yesterday, again. Starting with a 30 bag shoulder arthroscopy. (Three liter bags of Lactated Ringers. Fluid pumped through the joint to allow for retraction and work to be done.) Not a record, but not far off. A good twelve hours on my feet, everything aching last night. Better after sleeping, despite dreaming of work most of the night with a bad song going through my head.
The last case required me to run the c-arm for x-ray, and when the doc wanted a shot, he indicated this by saying "Spot." One of several generally understood terms. I prefer two syllables, works better for the brain, but spot is fine. When I got set up for the lateral x-ray, and the last one expected, I told him, "I'm expecting a box of Milk Bones after being called 'Spot' all evening." I think he grinned behind his mask. He is theoretically capable of a sense of humor.
A number of low-stress errands to run today. Just glad work is picking up, at least for now. So many hours lost lately, I'm not about to complain of being busy this week. Which doesn't stop it all from hurting, of course.