Dropped a patient's diamond ring while at work today. Fell out of my back pocket, where I was keeping it for her while she was in surgery. I knew I should have locked it up, but I was floated to a different unit (Note: Medicine ICU SUCKS! Give me a nice clean gun shot wound any day.) While on said unit, I couldn't get someone to piss on me were I a'fire, so I didn't bother to ask where/how they lock up valuables. In retrospect, sooooo my bad.

Could not find the blasted ring anywhere. Never in all my gazillion years of nursing have I pulled a bone-head manuever like this. Had no choice but to get on my hands and knees and scour every inch of that germ invested floor. Nada. I am tasting my fat-girl boxed lunch (aka Lean Cuisine) in the back of my mouth. My co-workers are stepping around me and rolling their eyes. I am swearing in 7 different languages. I say several desperate prayers to Saint Anthony, whom I think is the St. of loss items. Or lost causes. Either way, I figure I am covered.

45 minutes later, I am still swearing, broken into a sweat and wonder where the hell Saint Anthony is.

As I am mentally calculating how much overtime I will have to work to pay for the ring, I hear the sweetest voice ever blessed by angels say "'Scuse me, Miss. You looking for this?"

Well Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ if the housekeeper isn't holding up the ring. I have never met her, but I kissed her. Did a little tap dance and swung her around. Thanked her profusely, and then some. Planning to bake something spectacular for her as a thank you.

And never fucking put a patient's valuable in my pocket again!