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Bending Your Knowledge Of Medicine Until It Breaks

, , , | Healthy | June 22, 2021

I went on a winter holiday in Austria. It was my second time snowboarding after finishing my lessons the year before. On the afternoon of our third day there, I was exhausted and I tried to push myself up from a sitting position but fell right away. I felt a small snapping sensation in my right ring finger, but I didn’t think much about it.

Thirty minutes and two ski lifts later, I realized that my finger was swollen. I decided to go back to our hotel. I asked my cousin — a med student — about what I needed to use to reduce the pain. She tried to feel the bone but couldn’t because the finger was very thick already.

Cousin: “Can you bend your finger?”

Me: “Only like a third of the way.”

Cousin: “How painful is it out of ten?”

Me: “I think six.”

Cousin: “I think you just sprained it. Just use the ointment to reduce bruising, wrap it with elastic sport tape to keep it still, and you should be okay in a few days.”

Me: “You don’t think it’s broken?”

Cousin: “You would know it if it was broken. You would feel more pain.”

Me: “I don’t have to go to the emergency clinic here, then?”

Cousin: “Nah. It’s too expensive here. You can wait until we’re back in Amsterdam.”

Me: “Okay.”

A few days after we were back, almost a week after the accident, I had to go to Indonesia. By then, the swelling was gone, but the finger was still crooked and couldn’t bend. I decided to go to a clinic there.

From the x-ray picture, they saw that I had a hairline fracture close to the second joint of my right ring finger. Unfortunately, it had already been too long, so the bone already started healing itself, in the wrong position. Now the finger is forever crooked.

When I told my family about it, [Cousin] received a lot of teasing, and the story is retold every winter holiday. She did not choose orthopedics as her specialty.

Toss Out The Drama

, , , , | Friendly | April 30, 2021

My cousin’s first wedding, to [Bride #1], is a disaster. Neither of [Bride #1]’s bridesmaids show up, and one of [Cousin]’s two groomsmen doesn’t show up, either. My cousin’s female best friend acts as a bridesmaid, and [Cousin]’s gay male best friend is the groomsman. The other attendees are my aunt, [Bride #1]’s mom, my parents, my sister, my boyfriend, [Female Best Friend’s] boyfriend, and me.

After vows are exchanged, [Bride #1] tosses the bouquet. I have only been dating my boyfriend for a month, and my sister is sixteen and a lesbian (gay marriage isn’t legal yet). [Female Best Friend] jumps VERY energetically and catches the bouquet, as my sister and I have no interest in doing so and have stood well back from her. She lands poorly and sprains her ankle.

Then comes time for the garter toss. [Female Best Friend]’s boyfriend is VERY eager to catch it. I cajole [My Boyfriend] and [Gay Groomsman] to do as my sister and I did: just stand there so it at least looks like someone else is trying to catch the thing. They do so reluctantly.

When [Cousin] throws the garter, [Female Best Friend]’s boyfriend elbows [Gay Groomsman] in the torso and backhands [My Boyfriend] in the face, giving him a black eye. I later learn that [Gay Groomsman] has a couple of cracked ribs! [Female Best Friend]’s boyfriend catches the garter, and [Gay Groomsman] and [My Boyfriend] go off alone commiserate.

[Female Best Friend]’s boyfriend proposes, and she accepts. [Bride #1] is livid and pours the single bottle of champagne over [Female Best Friend]’s head.

Eight years later, [Cousin] has been divorced from [Bride #1] for a while and finally marries [Bride #2]. This wedding is also relatively small, with about thirty people, but it is in a very nice venue, with food arranged by my aunt, her best friend, and my mother.

Everyone shows up, including [Bride #2]’s divorced parents and their significant others. I have also been divorced for a couple of years but am now seeing a guy I really like. He didn’t attend because he has limited mobility and it is a bit of a walk to the venue.

After the festivities are over, [Bride #2] approaches me.

Bride #2: “Here, these are for you.”

She hands me her wedding bouquet.

Me: “Wait, what? Why?”

Bride #2: “My bridesmaids are married, and I hate my brother’s girlfriend. I heard my mom and her boyfriend saying that if Mom catches the bouquet, he’ll ask her to marry him, and I heard my dad tell his girlfriend the same thing. I don’t want drama. I know your boyfriend couldn’t come, but when I met him he seemed super awesome. So, here, come outside and we will do pictures.”

Her three married friends are already waiting outside. With them standing behind me, the photographer has me toss the bouquet aloft while jumping and gets a good picture of me catching it again.

Bride #2: “Thanks. I can tell my parents the bouquet toss was only for people who haven’t been married before.”

Me: “But… I’m divorced… and they’re… already married?”

Bride #2: “Yeah, I know. She doesn’t, though, and I heard about the fiasco with the bouquet and garter toss at [Cousin]’s first wedding. I did not want that! I also refused to wear a garter, so we could get out of the garter toss, but my mom paid for the photographer and specified bouquet toss pics. This was easier than arguing.”

Now, three years after that wedding, I am engaged to the man I was seeing then. [Female Best Friend] from the first wedding is still happily married to the man who proposed to her then. [Bride #2]’s parents are not seeing anyone. So, I guess it all worked out in the end!

You’ll Go “Clunk” When Your Mom Gets Hold Of You

, , , , , | Legal | January 12, 2021

In the early 1980s when my parents are first married, they are staying in the town my dad grew up in. The town has less than 2,500 people. Everyone knows everyone else, and they’re all related in some way. One night, after having dinner with his parents, they return to the place they are staying to find someone has broken in and stolen most of their things, including my mother’s collapsible pool stick, which is her pride and joy.

They report it to the police, tell his parents, and try to find a way to calm down. Dad suggests they go to the local bar, get a couple of drinks, and maybe ask around about it. As they sit there and talk to some people, Mom hears a very familiar noise. It’s the distinctive “clunk” noise that her pool stick makes when it strikes the cue ball. She gets my dad’s attention and points out the pool table to him.

One of his cousins is playing pool, and the stick he’s using is the one making the “clunk” noise.

Mom: “[Dad], that’s my stick!”

Knowing better than to cause a scene in a bar, my dad went to the payphone… and called his aunt. He told her what had happened and that he thought her son was the one who’d broken into the house. His aunt came down immediately and dragged my dad’s cousin out by the collar of his shirt, screaming up one side and cussing down the other. 

Turns out, he HAD been the one to break into the house, figuring my mom, who was from out of state, would have really valuable stuff to sell. Luckily, he hadn’t had a chance to sell anything, and they got everything back.

This story is part of our Best Of January 2021 roundup!

Read the next Best Of January 2021 roundup story!

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Making Baby Jesus Cry

, , , , , | Related | December 24, 2020

It’s Christmas Day at my grandparents’ house. Dinner has been served and eaten, presents and stockings have been opened and, to entertain the eight cousins in attendance, my aunt has come up with some party games.

First up is “pin Baby Jesus in the manger.” My oldest cousin, a ripe twenty years old, offers to be the first to have an oversized Santa hat pulled over his eyes. Once that’s in place, he gets spun around by many eager hands a few times. It’s simple from there: get Baby Jesus from his hand to the manger that is no more than five feet in front of him.

The manger is taped to a closed door, which my cousin had noted before having his eyes covered. Next to said closed door is a painting that has hung there for as long as any of us can remember. When he gets close enough, my cousin confidently leans one hand against the door and slaps the Baby Jesus as hard as he can onto the glass of the painting’s frame with his other. 

Lots of shouting and laughter ensues. After it’s established that he didn’t break anything, my cousin turns to my grandma and asks an innocent question. 

“That means I get to keep the painting, right?”

This Story Ramps Up Quickly

, , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: Anonymous by request | December 22, 2020

‘Twas the morning of Christmas and all through the house, every family member was beginning to rouse. My cousin and I crept into the den, to see just what Santa had brought for us then. My cousin saw near my stocking a Pikachu skateboard, something he saw and decided he’d hoard.

Okay, I don’t want to keep rhyming this.

I’m spending Christmas with my entitled aunt and uncle and their kids. My little a**hole cousin sees the Pikachu skateboard and tells me he wants it.

Me: “I want a million bucks and a new car. Who died and made you God?”

The kid looks at me like I just put a parrot in a microwave — shocked and insulted yet still in awe.

Cousin: “Come on, man. You always get the cooler stuff. Look what I got, dude.”

He points to his stocking, full of candy and football stuff. He even got this year’s newest “Madden” game in there. I am in seventh grade and this kid is in fifth grade; he’s too old to cry over not getting his way on Christmas.

We creep back to his room, quietly arguing over who gets to keep the Pikachu skateboard under MY stocking.

Cousin: “You’re gonna give me that board. I’ll make you.”

Me: “Not a snowball’s chance in H***.”

We wait for our parents, grandma, and his older sister to wake up.

[Cousin] tries to act surprised at what he got for Christmas, but I don’t, because I just think it’s pointless to do that when you already know what you got. I get a good load this year, too.

[Cousin] tells his mom that he MIGHT wanna trade with me. His mother — my aunt — looks like Coraline’s mother. She turns her creepy Claymation-looking head to me.

Aunt: “Is it okay if you trade with your cousin?”

Me: “Depends. I totally want my skateboard.”

Cousin: “Well, that’s what I want.”

Me: “Eh, I’m not interested.”

Aunt: “Let’s wait until we open gifts. Then, you’ll all know what you have, and you’ll be able to change your mind.”

We open gifts. When my cousin asks AGAIN if I want to trade, I repeat myself again.

Me: “Nope, I think I’m fine with what I got.”

My mom tries to break up the situation.

Mom: “Son, go put your stuff in the car; we’re leaving after lunch.”

Cousin: *Screaming* “But I want what he got! I want that skateboard!”

He hides his face and starts acting like he’s crying. I still say no. At this point, my aunt looks at me like I farted in an elevator — offended and s*** on. My mother helps me take my stuff, grabbing the skateboard first.

Aunt:Wait! Can I look at the skateboard? I may just go buy the same one.”

She takes a picture of it with her flip phone.

After we put all our stuff in the car, we all decided to go back to sleep — all except my younger cousin, of course. I’m sleeping on the couch.

When we wake up from our siesta, it’s near lunchtime. The sandwiches that my mother and nana make at Christmas time are unlike anything else. Paired with pineapple pie, it’s like a party in your mouth.

I ask where my cousin is; his mother says he’s at a friend’s house playing football.

While we’re all eating, my cousin walks into the house. He’s got this LOOK on his face like he’s accomplished a difficult feat. He says he isn’t hungry. Okay, that’s weird coming from him; he almost always has an empty stomach. He avoids eye contact with me. I get suspicious, so I get up to look in the car to see if anything is missing.

Cousin: “No, wait!”

I open the car door. Apparently, [Cousin] took the car keys from my mom’s purse and unlocked the car with it, and he took my skateboard. But he didn’t just skate on it! He had, somehow and I don’t know how, managed to break the thing in TWO. And he thought I wouldn’t notice it if he tried to tape it back together with electrical tape. I was pissed, and I cried.

My cousin always has this “if I can’t have it, nobody can” motto. I’ve never wanted to hurt someone so badly before in all my life.

Moral of the story: don’t let your kid be like Dudley Dursley.