‘Twas the night before Christmas, the hybrid was buzzing,
Triple A on the table and surgeons still fussing
Slooping, clamping, dissecting with speed,
Blood bank on the line: “a new sample we plead!”
Travers, West or Norfolk & Norwich?
Which one is best for the abdominal forage?
A big clamp the [magnificent!] surgeon desires,
“Below the renals?” the [even better] gasman enquires.
Meanwhile in 8 the scene is more… hole-y,
Avulsions, high ties and injection of foamy.
Next up a carotid with the Professor of Nayl’s
The TCA blips n’er heard in his travails.
On the ward a poor chap awaits his foot’s fate,
Washout, debride or maybe amputate?
Consented as such: ‘plus/minus’ is key,
A nibbler, power saw or laborious jiggly?
Then, finally calm as the new trainees close,
“Clips to the skin” they are told, not “vicryl 2-0”s!
MHP stood down, TEG running still,
ABG showing the patient’s quite ill.
The trusty ODP rings ICU for a bed,
“We didn’t know ‘bout this” the nurse in charge said.
“We need 30 minutes to ready the space”,
What? To draw up some white stuff and filters replace?
The Christmas party draws near, at Tigers y’know!
For some a sly kiss beneath that missing-toe.
And so to recovery – that team oft forgot,
When theatres close down and staff homeward trot.
Whether morphine, cyclizine, fluids or aught,
“Please destroy eMeds!” they frequently shout
Who’s got the bleep? – it’s impossible to say!
Here draws to a close UHL’s ‘Perfect Day’.
So, rejoice in your work, play hard and be nice,
For one day you might be up for the slice!
Do the WHO and Six Steps of Insulin Safety,
‘Stop the Line’ if you have to… then Datix it greatly!
Merry Christmas to one and all!
Single Malt 
Brilliantly executed xx
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