Successfully Needling Through

, , , | Working | September 13, 2017

(I am having an arthroscopy on my knee. Instead of being put to sleep during the operation, they simply give me epidural anesthesia so that I’ll stay awake during the operation. A curtain is placed between my upper and lower body, so I can’t actually see what’s happening down there. I am extremely afraid of needles and point this out to the doctor. They give me a painkiller and put some pain-reducing gel on my hand before inserting the cannula.)

Doctor: “All right, now it’s time for the anesthesia.”

Me: “Please, doctor. I’m deathly afraid of needles.”

Doctor: “Not to worry; you are not the only one. We’ll just give you a dose of what we call ‘Who-Cares Medicine.'”

(They put something through the cannula. Ten minutes later:)

Doctor: “It’s time for your anesthesia now:”

Me: “But doctor, I’m still not feeling too comfortable with this.”

Doctor: “Well, another dose of ‘Who-Cares Medicine’ for you, then.”

(Another ten minutes later:)

Doctor: “We’d really like to inject you now.”

Me: “Go ahead!”

(A minute or so passes:)

Nurse: “Do you feel any pain?”

Me: “I don’t feel a thing. Will you inject already?”

Nurse: “Most of the sedative is already in there.”

Me: “What?” *laughs* “This was easier than I thought.”

Nurse: *shows me the gigantic needle* “It was, indeed. See? It was this big.”

Me: *giggling* “That’s gigantic! How on earth did I not feel that?!”

(The operation commences. They are digging through my knee, and I’m engaged in a deep discussion with one of the nurses.)

Nurse: “You like urban exploration then? Did you visit the old abattoir in town before it was demolished?”

Me: “Not after it was abandoned, no. But I did as a kid, as a family member of mine was working there.”

Nurse: “I actually heard about a book that takes place there.”

Me: “Really, what was it called?”

Nurse: “I can’t remember, but I’ll Google it for you. One minute.”

Me: “What? There’s Internet in here?”

Nurse: “Sure thing. Now, let me see…”

Me: “After finding the book, could you check another thing for me? I heard rumours that the coach of [Local Football Team] has been sacked. Could you check their website?”

Nurse: “Just one minute… It says here that the coach has resigned and his assistant has taken over.”

Me: *trying to actually sit up* “WHAT?”

Doctor: “And more ‘Who-Cares Medicine’ for the young man, please.”

(They inject yet more medicine, and after that I’m very, very erratic. The staff are trying to hold their laughter.)

Me: “Hey, who’s sitting on my leg?”

Nurse: “He wants to know who’s sitting on his leg.”

Doctor: “Ask him what he thinks.”

Me: “It must be you or that other guy.”

(The doctors then change the position of my leg so that I actually can see my toes from behind the curtain.)

Me: “Hey, whose foot is that?”

(They couldn’t hold their laughter anymore. I was asking stupid question after stupid question, and they were just laughing and laughing, and trying their best to answer. I must have been a horrible patient. But the operation was as successful as it could be in the end.)

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Check Out This New Heart-Stopping Deal!

, , , , | Right | September 13, 2017

(I work security at a large shopping mall. One day, a customer in one of the stores suffers a heart attack and his heart stops. They have me at the door to keep flow of traffic moving and keep the door clear while we attempt to resuscitate him. [We succeed and he makes a full recovery.] Inside the store, there are approximately four uniformed security officers, two police officers, two firefighters, and two paramedics. There is also a large gurney in plain sight in the center aisle. An older couple walks up to the door and looks inside.)

Woman: “Oh, look, honey, they must be demonstrating a new product!”

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A Bad Case Of Viral Hypochondria

, , , , , | Related | September 12, 2017

(I tend to be a bit dramatic, to the point of it being a joke, when I am sick. My sister is out of town, and I have been battling an awful cold for nearly a week when this happens.)

Sister: “Hey. I’ll pay you to watch [Son] on Saturday. [Husband] has to work, and I won’t be back until late. I don’t think it’s occurred to him yet that [Son] can’t go to work with him. If you’re interested. If you’re not, it’s okay. We’ll figure something out. Just thought I’d see with you first.”

Me: “I would recommend finding someone else, since I’m currently dying of incurable plague.”

Sister: “Ugh. Can’t you just supervise him from your deathbed?”

Me: “So that he can catch the death-plague? I’m trying to limit exposure to others. I wouldn’t inflict this on someone I don’t like.”

Sister: “That’s true. I don’t want any of us to get your death plague. Also, actual plague is making an actual comeback IN THE UNITED STATES!”

Me: “Actual plague would be an improvement; it’s bacterial, so a few cc’s of penicillin to the rump takes care of that. I’m viral.”

Sister: “Bleh. Also that’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.”

(This was after I sent her a picture of cough medicine, calling it “my sweet nectar of life.”)

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Because Cancer Totally Beats Being Yourself

, , , , , | Related | September 11, 2017

(I’m a trans woman in my mid-twenties. I’ve been out to my parents for about six years at this point, but haven’t been able to start transitioning. A few days before this, I finally figured out how I can start transition and have talked to my mother to let her know where I’m at with everything. It’s Dad’s turn now, so I start telling him that I’m planning on transitioning and we have a long chat about it. When the chat’s basically over, I go to get a cigarette. My dad’s never really liked the fact that I smoke, so I turn back as an afterthought.)

Me: “For what it’s worth, at least I’ll have to quit smoking.”

Dad: “For what it’s worth, I think I’d rather you smoked.”

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All We Need Is Some Bloody Tolerance

, , , | Related | September 10, 2017

(I’m a teen girl on my period, and my mom approaches me.)

Mom: “Your dad saw your used tampon in the trash. You need to hide it better.”

Me: “What?! Here I am bleeding, and all he can say is he doesn’t want to look at my tampon in the trash?! What’s he looking for there anyway?!”

(My mom tried to explain that it’s not ladylike, and then I saw my dad pass by, red-faced, having eavesdropped. I chewed him out and he ran away. I didn’t have tolerance for nonsense at that time.)

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