The V.A.

The Veteran's Administration Hospital. Where they admistrate veterans. Or administer to them. It's long stark, blank hallways. It's forrest green laboratory furniture. It's rooms filled with subtly flickering flourescent lights embedded in mottled drop ceilings. It's slow computers. It's old office chairs, worn and stained, patched with duct tape. It's dark, windowless patholgoy resident's rooms with its ancient brown, creme, and orange-themed microwave with the broken handle.

The V.A. recently sent out a memo to all of its employees. Among other things, it announced that from all incoming residents must report to be finger printed. To ensure the safetry of our nation's veterans. This doesn't directly affect me, because even though I rotate through the V.A., I am technically employed by the OHSU hospital system. But it does seem a bit odd. This institution, as well as many other such governmental emmisaries, is in a bit of a budget crunch, for obvious reasons.

Right now the V.A. is in a hiring freeze, so they won't hire any other people, even to replace employees who have quit. The hisotechs in the path department dropped from 4 to 2 recently, with out any reinforcements in sight. This is also the same V.A. that can't afford to buy a second dictaphone for the pathology gross room, so now only one person can tackle the pile of biopsies and other human bits, even if there are other people sitting around checking CNN news in the break room. But apparently there are enough funds to pay for the extra time, energy, and person-power involved in finger-printing the hundreds of new residents. This will clearly stem the tide of terrorists that are currently infiltrating the ranks of our nation's young doctors. Their goal: to quietly invade hospitals across the nation and perform dastardly acts of cowardly evil on 75 year old Korean war vets.

"You wanted the oriental chicken dinner, Mr. Arndt? Well, I am putting you on a low-sodium vegetarian diet!" "I'm sorry, is that blood pressure cuff too tight? Well, how's that, Mr. Dofelmire? Huh? How do you like that?"

With each black-inked finger pressed firmly and resolutely to that blank white paper, the Veteran's Administration is shaking its fist to the sky and shouting, "Take that, Osama!"