D'ja ever have that dream

So a bunch of us have had the dream where you're doing the autopsy and your patient wakes up. Kathy's starred the chief of pathology, who sat up in the middle of his own post and just would not stop talking. (The chief is a bit of a blabbermouth.) Mine was more alarming. I was on the autopsy floor in one of the bays, surrounded by other people in the other bays doing other cases, when my initial incision oozes a little too much. I slowly realize that it's not really oozing: it's bleeding. I drop the tools and back away and Dr. Rodriguez comes over to ask what happened. I can't really say, so I just point to the wound. He purses his lips, lets out a little puff of air, and says "Another one..." He then helps me push the table out to the transportation area and past it to the parking lot. As we go, he calls over his shoulder for transport to call an ambulance. The dream ends with me in the parking lot, ripping off my blood-stained gown and gloves, pulling my mask down around my neck, and holding pressure on the wound while keeping up a "there there" patter in my best professional soothing voice.

So I'm in the office (for real) the other day and people get to talking and there's this story that they swear is true where one of the gurneys falls off the back of the transport van and the guy moans. Which buys him a trip to the hospital, where he lives another two days before he makes hiw second and final trip in the van. The thing is, he'd already had his temperature taken. In this office, we use liver temperature. Which means a (small) incision in the abdomen and a (large) meat thermometer inserted into the liver (which you do by feel.)