Later in the evening, I was in the room as a combative patient tore out his IV and started waving his bleeding hand at anyone who approached him. Managed to get out of that one without a speck on my scrubs.
But it was only when I kicked the chair back from the triage desk as the patient began emptying his stomach contents over his registration paperwork that I started to consider myself unusually lucky for the night.
That is, until I tripped on the sidewalk on my way home and wiped out in front of the hospital's main entrance. Oh well, you can't win them all.