I just read a memo from work, referring to the “ED Department.”
Now, in the lexicon of abbreviations and acronyms, the average person might associate “ED” with “Erectile Dysfunction” or with any number of other things. But in hospitals, “ED” means “Emergency Department.” You are probably more familiar with “ER” for “Emergency Room” — not only because of traditional usage, but because of the popular TV show of that name. But people who work in the area formerly known as the Emergency Room want everyone to know that it is not merely a room. No, it is WAY more than a “room.” It is a Department. Whoever wrote the memo wants us to know that it is not the Emergency Room (ER) but the Emergency Department Department (“ED Department”).
It reminds me of a stop I made at a “convenience store” in the wild weeds of Minnesota a few years back. It was so long ago that there were no bars on my cell phone in that neck of the sticks. It was cold. I had had a car malfunction — nothing I couldn’t fix myself, but I needed to update folks at my destination and reassure them that I wasn’t “in the ditch” somewhere.
My smallest bill was a ten, and I didn’t have enough change to feed the public phone I found outside the store.
I asked the clerk if she could provide me with some change for the phone.
She: “Sir, there is an ATM machine right over there.”
Me (after mentally shaking my head like the duck in Yogi Berra’s “AFLAC” commercial): “Uhhhh.. thanks?”
I headed toward the door, hoping to find a more conscious retailer nearby.
As an afterthought I asked the clerk on my way out, “Is that an automated ATM machine?”
She: “How should I know?”