I was taking the sun one early autumn afternoon in 1975, sitting in the ambulance driveway at a Schenectady hospital. I looked across the 5-way intersection in front of the ER, and saw the door of the dentist's office across the way fly open. The dentist came running out, pushing a wheelchair with a young lady slumped over in it. He came across the intersection, up the ambulance ramp, and rolled to a stop in front of me. He reported that he had been administering a local prior to doing a procedure, and the patient had experienced palpitations. He figured the wheelchair ride was quicker than an ambulance call. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that the patient was Trixie the ICU nurse, a delightful young woman who had entered the nursing profession with the expressed intent of marrying a doctor. She was known in the ICU for her matching eye shadow and lingerie. Apparently the marital prospects in the unit were unfavorable; she was dressed in full '70's mating regalia for her dental appointment. It did facilitate hooking her up to the monitor. The inadvertent dose of IV lidocaine and attendant palpitations resolved promptly, and Trixie recovered, although the budding dental romance did not. Trixie went on to marry an icu doc, and her her wardrobe became much less flamboyant. That dental lido is tricky stuff.