"Are you on any medications at home?" I asked. He was in for a swollen wrist--and I mean a swollen. wrist. The thing looked like he had a half a softball in there.
"What about for the pain in your wrist?"
"Oh, yeah, I mean, I take Tramadol for that."
"Okay. So. . . .anything for high blood pressure, anything like that?"
Okay. On to the next question. I know this one will be fun because he's got dozens of missed follow-ups and lit up his last utox like a Christmas tree. Two weeks ago.
"Any street drugs? Heroin? Cocaine? Weed?"
"Why you motherfuckers always askin' me about street drugs? I don't do no drugs! I don't smoke weed or shoot heroin or nothin'! What the fuck are you people goin' on about drugs? I never done no drugs! (random profanity)(random tossing things around the room)(stomping)(breathing heavily)"
"So all you take at home is Tramadol for your wrist?"
"Yeah. And Suboxone."