I really can't think of any clean way to say it, so I'm just going to say it: My dreams for a peaceful and uneventful first call night ("taking call" refers to an overnight shift at the hospital, beginning at approximately 7 PM in the evening and ending at noon the next day) went quite literally down the toilet when I was overwhelmed by and eventually succumbed to an acute case of explosive diarrhea at around 7 PM last night. This was followed about seven hours later by my privilege in sharing an unventilated call room with quite possibly the most horrifically odor-ridden human being of all time. Perhaps the only surprising thing about this whole evening was that nothing really dramatic happened in the actual ER or OR, save one elderly head trauma case that I couldn't get anywhere near anyways because there were so many people around watching the proceedings.
I regret that my willingness to share the previous information (specifically my own personal "code brown") is likely a secondary effect of having rather frantically worked approximately 49 of the last 56 hours. I will have something more entertaining and perhaps less personally embarrassing to share with you all sometime soon, but right now I think I'm just going to go to bed.