Laughter Is The Best Drug

(Several years ago, I had an accident that required a skin graft on a knuckle. Present day: I hit my hand while working, causing the skin graft to split open, meaning I need stitches. I get to the hospital at about 4:30 pm, and it is PACKED. It is almost 2:00 in the morning before the doctor can even have a look at me.)

Doctor: “Yeah, you will need stitches, so I’m going to give you some novocaine to numb your finger up. We’ll give it 15 minutes to take effect, and get started.”

Me: “Don’t worry about that. It is a skin graft. You would need to poke me where I can feel it, to numb me up where I already can’t feel anything. Just sew it up, please.”

(The doctor agrees, gets a nurse to bring in the kit and hand him stuff, and starts stitching. I can’t feel a thing. After a few minutes, the nurse leans over and asks:)

Nurse: “So, is the novocaine still working?”

(In my defence, I am tired and incredibly bored, so I just look up with a horrified expression and say:)

Me: “I NEVER GOT ANY!”

(The nurse’s eyes almost pop out, and she is ready to flip out. The doctor just looks up at me and says:)

Doctor: “Oh, shut up, you baby.”

(Sorry, nurse, but the doc and I got a good laugh, at least.)