The Things We Do At Conferences….

Today’s daily prompt is Let’s Go Crazy and asks for the craziest thing you have ever done or what you would do if you gave yourself permission to go crazy.

I am an impulsive person.  And generally impulseiveness only leads to trouble.  Like the time I decided to touch an electric fence on a dare.  Dares in general should be outlawed to the impulsively sensitive.  It was a cow fence, so I survived with a painful arm for a few days.

I get in trouble at work a fair amount for my impulsive behavior.  I am saved only by the fact that my loyalty and general employee worthiness out-trumps my egregious errors.  I really screw up on email.  It never comes out right.  There is so much missing in tone and body language in an email.  All it is is a shadow of what you want it to be, no matter how one tries to display the words on the page.

So I actually have several stories to share.  Both of which are highly embarrassing.  But I do embarrassment with flair.  Unfortunately they would both be too long for this post, so I shall have to choose one of them.  Sad for you, I know.

I got the opportunity to go to a conference when I was a very young nurse just starting out in dialysis.  It was very VERY long days of very VERY detailed research talks.  And very long nights over dinners discussing issues.  From 6 am to 10 pm I ran non-stop from one talk to another.  One evening I was in a dinner where wine was being served.  Now I am notorious for wine, or more appropriately, ALCOHOL intolerance.  One glass and I am zoned on the floor or flying out the windows.  It seems to go right into my blood like an IV bolus.  I had no idea why I was at this dinner.  My boss required it and I figured that it would be explained.  But it was not.  Everyone knew what it was about and no one took any time to explain to newbies like me what was going on.  And then people starting griping and bickering.

My 3 glasses of wine were floating in my head like a fuzzy drunken cloud.  I was mortified to hear all the whining (with the wine-ing) and instead of enjoying my fuzzy little world I said, “If they don’t stop I am going to hang myself with this here napkin,  have a seizure and fall out of my chair on the floor.”

Dr Berry, a very very bad man, said, “I dare you.”

Karen, a nurse in my unit, had to put her head on the table to hide her laughter at my look of pure Calvin-and Hobbes joy.  Hey, I had permission from one of the Big Dudes at the conference!  I was doing it!  Never one to back down, I proceeded to carefully tie my napkin around my neck and pretended to hang myself.  And gracefully fell off my chair in a grand mal seizure.

The entire table was convulsed with not-so-silent laughter.  And I might have gotten away with it, but their commotion caused my Head Doc to look my way…..and saw me on the floor.  I don’t think he realized what I was doing, but he knew me well enough by then to know that I was up to mischief.  I got grounded from conferences….FOR 10 YEARS!

Yes, I was eventually allowed to go back….WITH dire warnings of severe punishment if I misbehaved.  I can say that I was a good girl at the next one!  But only the next, to my chagrin!