The Hippokkkratic Oath

, , , , | Healthy | February 17, 2018

(I work at a detention center, and we are holding two big-name KKK leaders. Both were on TV after their arrest, since they have supposedly attacked one of their own. One of them has to be taken to the hospital for something and he has two male officers escorting him. They are seen in the ER by a tiny nurse.)

Nurse: “Mister… [Inmate]?”

Inmate: “Yeah?”

Nurse: “I see one of your vaccines hasn’t been updated; did you want to take care of that?”

Inmate: “Yeah, why not? The state’s paying for it.”

(The nurse starts humming as she prepares the injection and then proceeds to clean a site on his leg.)

Nurse: “Ready?”

Inmate: “Go for it.”

(The nurse suddenly stabs the needle into his leg, making both the officers cringe in sympathy as the man howls.)

Nurse: “There we go! All done.”

Inmate: “What kind of nurse are you?”

Nurse: “A loving Christian woman who doesn’t judge one’s skin color.”

(It was then that the inmate realized she had seen his face on the six o’clock news.)

You Could Be Having A Ball

, , , , , | Healthy | February 16, 2018

(I am about to have a vasectomy, under a local anaesthetic. The female surgeon and I having been making general chat, and she now approaches with the needle to inject me with the anaesthetic.)

Me: “No jokes about ‘just a little prick’?”

Surgeon: “I’m not allowed to… anymore.”

Water Difference That Makes

, , , , | Healthy | February 13, 2018

(I am a medical lab scientist. I receive a urine sample from the ER to test only for drugs, marked as belonging to a fifteen-year-old boy. The sample is quite clear — if someone is really hydrated that can happen — and it’s cold. We usually receive urine still warm, but sometimes it sits while they decide if they want to test it for anything. It’s negative for all the street drugs we test for. I release the results and then, a bit later, I get a call from a nurse.)

Nurse: “Hi. I was just wondering about the drug screen for [Patient].”

Me: “Sure. What do you need?”

Nurse: “Well, it was cold when he gave it to me, and I just don’t quite believe it’s negative. Is there anything you could do to find out if it was water?”

(I think for a moment and come up with a few fast things that I could do to find out whether or not it is water.)

Me: “Yeah, let me grab it and try something.”

(I do a really quick test and come up with something you would not expect for pee.)

Me: “Either this kid is in very severe kidney failure, or this is water.”

Nurse: “Thank you. I just graduated and passed my boards, so I’m still learning knowledge-versus-wisdom. Now I know when I feel like the urine feels cold, I should do something about it.”

Me: “Did you want me to credit those charges?”

Nurse: “Yes. We will be recollecting. And there will be a male care tech going in that bathroom with him.”

Me: *laughing* “I would imagine.”

(Once I get off the phone, I do some more chemical testing and learn that this sample has none of the chemical properties of urine. This kid didn’t even think to try the one where you dilute your actual pee with water — which we can also catch — or even to just put WARM water in the cup. It was straight, cold, tap-water. I walk across the lab to tell this one to the other lab scientists, one of whom is known for being extremely cynical about everything.)

Cynical Coworker: “That nurse is way too nice. I’d catheterize the kid. Teach him to never do that one again.”

(We then started a prizeless pool, guessing what the kid was on that he was trying to hide. In the end, the actual urine arrived, and it was positive for marijuana.)

Making You Go Psycho

, , , , | Healthy | February 7, 2018

(I have a psychologist assigned to me at my hospital, where I am a frequent visitor and inpatient due to a chronic illness. She’s not very good at her job, at least when it comes to me; every conversation I have with her ends in frustration for me, and a completely warped assessment of my emotional and mental state for my doctor. Eventually, I get tired of it, and ask not to see her anymore, since I think she misunderstands and/or misrepresents my mental health. This is the last conversation I have with her, during a week-long hospitalisation.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but considering that I asked you not to come today, and you came anyway, and once again you haven’t really understood what I’m saying, I’m going to ask the doctors not to send you to me anymore.

Psychologist: “Oh… Well, I still have one more visit planned for the day before you leave.”

Me: “Please cancel it. I appreciate your help, but I just become too frustrated.”

Psychologist: “Well… if you change your mind, please let–

Me: “I’m not going to change my mind.”

Psychologist: “Well, if you do, just tell one of the day nurses and—”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to.”

Psychologist: “Well, just in case you do—”

Me: “I’m not.”

Psychologist: “I know you think that now, but I’ll be here if you want to chat.”

Me: “I promise you, I won’t.”

Psychologist: “Well, if you change your mind…”

(Then, she just stood there smiling. I stared at her in disbelief until she left.)

I Never Meant To Cause You Trouble

, , , | Healthy | February 4, 2018

(Due to some weird allergic reactions, I’ve been sent to have a blood test done. As I enter the phlebotomist’s room, Coldplay’s “Yellow” is playing on a small radio.)

Nurse: “Now, how are you with needles?”

Me: “They’re not my favourite thing, but I’m okay with them. Never had any problems before.”

(They get me set up with the needle in my arm, and everything’s okay at first, but after about a minute I start to feel woozy, nauseated, and sweaty, and my hearing fades out. “Yellow” has been replaced with a staticky noise. I try to communicate this to the nurse, but something gets lost on the way to my mouth.)

Me: *flaps hand at nurse* “Chris Martin went grey! Gonna blarf…”

(I vomit in my lap and then faint. When I wake up, I’m wearing a blood pressure cuff and someone’s fetched my mum from the waiting area.)

Nurse: “Wow, I’ve had people freak out before, but you’re the first one who’s fainted! By the way, who’s Chris Martin?”

Me: “Huh?”

Nurse: “You were talking about him, said he went grey or something? It seemed pretty urgent.”

Me: “No idea.”

(Chris Martin is the lead singer of Coldplay, a band which I’m fairly ambivalent about. Apparently, my brain is better at remembering music trivia when starved of oxygen and shutting down!)

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