A good friend of mine from Ukraine told me a story. He works as a surgeon in the reception. More precisely, there were three surgeons on the shift, but on this day one was taken urgently to the department, and the other got into something and fell under the dropper. This is an unlucky day. They promised to give a replacement, but... gave some young inexperienced torsionist. And that well.

And according to the law, you know what, it went. Two accidents, a knife and a fall from a height. Four heavy three-hour cavity operations, not something to rest and have lunch - a cup of coffee between changing clothes and washing, and then second-hand.
After completing the shift, the surgeon went out in a state close to trance. The eyes do not see, the feet do not walk, the head does not think. Go home and sleep. But first go to the cafe and eat something.

On the machine cleaned the plate (what did you order? Kill me, I don’t remember! The surgeon was removed from the trance by the owner of the cafe.
You had a tough day, right? A lot of operations, right? Drink a hundred cognac, relax, lunch at the expense of the establishment, a taxi I called you...
The surgeon recovered.
“Well, I’m a surgeon... and it’s been a tough day... What, so noticeable?
Yes to Doctor. When you ate, you said to the waitress, “I’ve finished. Count the tools and sew them.” You are from the reception, right? I’ve been on the speedway for six years, I’ve seen this.

The Doctors! If there is justice in the universe, there is a separate VIP paradise for doctors.