With little ado, I present an essay by my good friend Dr. Dipsey of the Dominican Doodles. Maggot-infested nutsacks, the morbidly obese, and helicopters, oh my!"Things I Have Learned from Working at the County Hospital"
For the last several weeks, I have been working at a county hospital, one which serves an ethnically heterogeneous but socioeconomically homogeneous population of people who stay out of the hospital until they are as sick as possible. This is generally not their fault, as the current administration has their priorities – shall we say – misplaced, when it comes to health care. Politics aside, I have learned a thing or two in the previous weeks which I feel should be conveyed in the interest of public health.
Thing #1) Do not shit your pants. Alcoholics can have a problem with blacking out. When they do, they occasionally lose bowel and bladder continence. Just ask Snakin. If, however, you drink to the point of unconsciousness and then shit yourself, please ensure that upon awakening you change clothes and perhaps shower. If you are homeless, unfortunately, this will be a little more difficult. It is a sad statement of addiction and poverty, but it’s reality for many a tipsy mcgee. To continue: if you shit yourself, and if you should not be able to clean yourself, then I advise you to make every effort to guarantee that you do not have a skin infection of your scrotum. Because if you have a skin infection of your scrotum, and you shit yourself, and you do not clean yourself afterward, then you will be brought to the hospital with maggots crawling on your nutsack.
Thing #2) Do not be Samoan. When you come to a county hospital with some bizarre illness, do not be Samoan. Because if you are Samoan, there is a good chance that you speak Samoan. If you are an older Samoan, there is an additional chance that you speak only Samoan. If you are going to come to a county hospital with some bizarre illness, be either A) Hispanic B) Vietnamese C) Filipino D) Chinese or E) Russian. You can even be Italian or French, if you choose. But do not be Samoan. If you are A,B,C,D,E, Italian or French, someone at the county hospital will speak your language and be able to understand why there is blood coming out of your penis. If you are Samoan, no one will speak your language, and you will be screwed.
Thing #3) Do not let your body weight exceed 600 pounds. However, if via the cruel machinations of fate (and/or Crisco addiction) you somehow arrive at a body weight of 600 pounds, I strongly advise not letting your health slide downhill towards medical emergency. If you can help it. If you can’t help it, and a 9-1-1 call is in your foreseeable future, I advise you to live near a hospital. If you don’t, as I have learned this week in a county hospital, you will have to be flown by life-flight helicopter to your nearest health care facility. The sticky thing is, life-flight helicopters are not equipped to transport 600-pound persons. So you will be transported to the hospital in a Blackhawk helicopter.
2 comments:
This is the funniest medical thing I've seen in a long time and I think I need to share with my nurse/study coordinator today.
He's the one who recently told me about the guy WALKING into his ER after reportedly shooting himself in the head. It was later confirmed that, despite the fact that he was in no way altered, bleeding, or even singed at the hairline, he had, in fact shot himself in the temple. Intentionally.
You can come away with one of two messages:
1) The guy is alive by the grace of God and should do something important; it just wasn't his time.
2) He can't even succeed in killing himself with a point-blank GSW to the head. Wow.
So skymall...I agree he was saved by Grace, and though he was, at first thought we think he should do something important, I will argue against him doing anything of the sort. Given the circumstance (of having a loading gun at one's head), if one is so worthless as to not pull that off, we probably don't want him doing anything where more could be at stake.
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