**Correction to Card

I had an adventure the other day. They're never far away when you work in a medical school. This isn't really a funny doctor story. It only involves myself, our budget officer and a lab tech. I thought "Funny budget officer, lab tech, and me story # 1" might be awkward.

I was on my way downstairs to collect a fedex recieved for one of my doctors that morning. As I headed for the stairs, a contracted construction worker called to me.

"Excuse me, do you know what I should do with these?"

I turned around to greet the enormous man, who leaned a heavy lead pipe over one shoulder and extended two small plastic bags to me with the unoccupied hand. I couldn't see what they were until I got closer. Upon near examination I saw what these bags contained - mice. Yes, little white lab mice. But there was something else in the bag: a card. A white card - with big red letters boldy stating BURN.

I can honestly say I have no idea what was done to those mice to necesitate the inceneration of their carcasses, but you can guess where my mind went. Though dead, these mice were infecteous, and had obviously fallen off someone's cart who was taking them to be safely disposed of after experimentation.

"Where did you find these?" I asked, gingerly taking the mice from him.

"In the freight elevator vestibule," he answered very kindly. He looked as apprehensive as I felt. Neither of us being scientists, dealing with these highly scientific mice was a little frightening. I mean hey, I've read The Hot Zone. He looked like he had too.

"Probably fell off a cart," I said, still holding the little beggars 2 feet away from all my bodily orphases or muchus membranes. "I'll take care of them." He nodded gratefully and went back to his work.

I turned around and headed back toward my department. Someone there would know what to do with contageous mice - or at least have a lighter.

After stopping into Miss Money's office to show her my prize, I ran into Salty, a lab tech for the vice chair. I got his attention I showed him my new friends. After a surprised belly laugh that I never would have expected from a man his size (he's a rather small fellow) he asked where I got the mice.

"Found 'em" I said. He took one bag from my hand (still 2 feet away from my head and all therein) without fear and looked at the BURN tag. There was other information written on there as well, such as the lab that had used those mice for experiements.

Salty read me the lab name, and said I'd better return the mice and let them know what happened. They certainly wouldn't want it happening again. So I walked the entire length of the department on the tag scanning the door tags for the lab in question, never finding it. I must have passed a dozen labs, none of them the guilty party. I came to the end of the department's horseshoe shaped hallway and was spotted by Salty again.

"No luck?" he asked in his completely unworried way.

"Nope," I relayed.

"Well, let's pop in the office and ask," he suggested. We did so. When we arrived, Salty grabbed the bags, again, completely unworried, and asked where the lab was. The secretary took us to it and knocked.

Now, Salty may have known something I didn't, or maybe all his years in science have given him special powers to use against infecteous mice, but when I saw the lab we were taken to I questioned his confidence (and his super powers). I recognized this lab. This was the lab that had those special sensors beside the door, the one's that you could hear beeping even in our department as the researchers scanned a special badge, the badge that means they signed the "I know I'm risking my life to go in here" paper.

Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. It only had a biosafety level 2 rating, which doesn't require stuff like gas masks and space suits. But It does require that the agents their working with be kept contained. Hence the special doors. Maybe Salty's nonchelance was meritted.

A very content looking fellow answered the door. The secretary explained what was going on and Salty held up the specimins. His eyes grew wide when he saw them and he grabbed them and examined the tag. He seemed to grow less fearful as he read the tag, and asked where I'd found them and I told him, and he looked up at me with the most sincere expression I'd ever seen and said very, very emphatically "I'm so glad you found them and not EHOS..."

('EHOS' is the Environmental Health and Safety department. Their mission is to punish anyone who so much as sneezes in the cafeteria without covering their mouth and immediately washing their hand.)

We all parted on lovely terms and I'm sure the mice were...taken care of.

When I came back I found a sticket on my desk. I recognized Miss Money's handwriting. She's criminally whitty and is fond of leaving humerous notes on my desk. I should have expected this one:

"Mouse-in-bag
**CORRECTION TO CARD

Should read: EAT"