Oh that Doctor Pickle.
The best way to come in and out for employees is in the oldest section of the hospital. The movie "Coma" comes to mind. Long hallways with long pipes, one marked "Oxygen." Could Genevieve Bujold be lurking somewhere?
This is also the former psychiatric ward. There may still be padding behind some of those locked doors, the doors with the bars on them, the cages.
Tuesday it occurred to me that the morgue is probably down here somewhere. Maybe. Would it be called a morgue? Dunno.
My office is in the School of Nursing building. It's still called that but it isn't a school of nursing anymore. You can still get a sense that many of these rooms were dorms. And the bathrooms scream for shuffling slippers and hot curlers. I went by one office the other day that has part of a vanity still in it. Useful after a few hours at the computer to gargle and spit in the old sink.
Besides Doctor Pickle, there is Doctor Dwarkanath, Doctor Swamy. The mention of Doctor Swamy's name sends me into a little riff in my head of "howIloveyouhowIloveyou my dear old swamy."
I have continued my annoying habit of singing at work. Some bad choices include, "Poison" and "American Pie." That chorus of "This will be the day that I die" gets some attention, let me tell you.