Clarence in the House

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the ED,

Triage was overwhelmed, it was standing room only.

The patients were hungover, slumped in a waiting room chair,

In hopes that IV fluids and Ativan soon would be there.

The patients were nestled all snug in hospital beds,

While visions of discharge orders danced in their heads.

The charge nurse with her clipboard and I in my cap,

Rolled our eyes when the resident declared “I’m taking a nap”.

When out in the parking lot, there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.

Away from the triage window I flew like a flash,

And out in the parking lot, I heard a loud crash.

The moon glowing bright amidst the ongoing construction,

Gave the illusion of light, and the smell of combustion.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But an ambulance passenger yelling, “I only had 2 beers!”

An intoxicated gentleman, it soon became quite apparent,

I knew in a moment the patient was “Clarence”.

More rapid than eagles, his curses they came,

And he sang “Boyz II Men”, the songs always the same.

As drunk as a skunk, he smelled like stale pee,

We instructed the medics “take him to hallbed 3”.

He smiled a toothless grin and to our great dismay,

Was still wearing the last t-shirt we gave him, it said “Trauma 5k”.

He made his announcement, “Clarence in the House”,

Then promptly urinated, the floor completely doused.

He smiled so widely, a jolly and toothless grin,

Then requested a turkey sandwich with a chaser of gin.

He was dressed all in Goodwill, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with cigarette ashes and soot.

A bundle of heroin he had flung on his back,

And his poor dental retention insinuated he liked to use crack.

His eyes- oh how bloodshot! His dimples, how merry!

He winked at a new nurse and threatened to “pop that cherry”.

A harsh reprimanding put Clarence back in his place,

And his bed alarm was turned on, as he pouted his face.

The tip of a vape pen he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He was skinny and pungent, a right jolly old elf,

And I let him walk to the bathroom, in spite of myself.

He spoke many words, then went straight to his work,

He shook it three times so I said “stop now, that’s just a jerk”.

In utter dismay, I walked him back to his stretcher,

He invited me to lay down and I declined (the drunken, old lecher!)

He jumped onto his bed, and was soon fast asleep,

We resumed our patient care, as he made not a peep.

But I heard him exclaim, before he finally passed out,

“Jiggly Baby, Clarence in the House!”