The only difference between death and taxes is that death doesn’t get worse every time Congress meets.
~WILL ROGERS~
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During a visit with my mother, who was in the hospital, I popped into the cafeteria for breakfast. I set a piece of bread on the moving toaster rack and waited for it to return golden brown. Instead, it got stuck all the way in the back. When I couldn’t reach it, the woman in line next to me took control of the situation. Seizing a pair of tongs, she reached in and deftly fished out the piece of toast. "You must be an emergency-room worker," I joked.
"No," she said, "an obstetrician."
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A friend of mine was working as a nurse in a West Australian coastal town when a tourist came into the medical center with a fishhook lodged deep in his hand. Since it was the weekend, my friend had to summon the doctor from home.
The tourist was dismayed to see that the doctor was young, had long hair and wore sandals and a very casual shirt. "You don’t look much like a doctor to me," he said dubiously.
The doctor examined the hook in the tourist’s hand and responded, "And you don’t look much like a fish to me."
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After I warned the nurse taking blood that it would be very hard to find a vein on me, she said, "Don’t worry. We’ve seen worse. Last year we had a girl come in to get a blood test for her marriage license and we had to stick her six times in four places before we got anything."
"Yes, I know," I said. "That was me!"
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On the Friday before Christmas, a group of tuberculosis patients at the VA hospital in Springfield, Missouri, were filing past the fluoroscope for a checkup and the atmosphere was none too cheerful. But with the last patient it changed.
When the doctor looked at the man’s chest through the screen, he was at first dumbfounded and then amused to read the words "Merry Christmas." The patient had shaped the season’s greeting from a roll of wire solder and taped it to his chest.
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A client of our optometry business was jubilant after I replaced the scratched, dirty lenses in his eyeglasses with new ones.
“This is great!” he said. “I just gained two hours of daylight.”
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Employed as a dental receptionist, I was on duty when an extremely nervous patient came for root-canal surgery. He was brought into the examining room and made comfortable in the reclining dental chair. The dentist then injected a numbing agent around the patient’s tooth, and left the room for a few minutes while the medication took hold.
When the dentist returned, the patient was standing next to a tray of dental equipment. "What are you doing by the surgical instruments?" asked the surprised dentist.
Focused on his task, the patient replied, "I’m taking out the ones I don’t like."
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Throughout her pregnancy, my sister Joanne insisted that she wanted no medication during labor. When the big day came, though, she wondered if she had made the right decision.
Knowing my sister’s stance on drugs, the midwife did everything else to ease Joanne’s pain. "You look uncomfortable," she said at one point. "Would you like to change positions?"
"Yes," Joanne replied. "I want to be the midwife!"
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While walking through a Dallas airport, my dentist ran into a group of folks from his hometown. Among them was one of his patients. When he said hello, she gave him a curious look, saying he looked familiar but she could not quite place him.
"Lean back and look up at me," he suggested. She did. "Oh! Dr. Harrison!"
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I was waiting in the office of our lone, overworked doctor when a local repairman, father of seven children, dashed in looking worried and distraught.
To the nurse he explained, "My kids are all sick with some kind of bug. I know that Doc is too busy for me to bring ’em all in here, but I wondered if I could bring in one for a sample?"
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We brought our newborn son, Adam, to the pediatrician for his first checkup. As he finished, the doctor told us, "You have a cute baby."
Smiling, I said, "I bet you say that to all new parents."
"No," he replied, "just to those whose babies really are good-looking."
"So what do you say to the others?" I asked.
"He looks just like you."
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When I was on duty in the maternity ward, one of my patients was a woman who was having her first child. Because of her medical situation, she had to undergo a cesarean procedure. After the operation, I handed her the newborn child and declared, "Congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy."
Still a little groggy from the anesthesia, she responded, "That’s great. What’s his name?"
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A friend living in an isolated Montana mining town suspected that she wasn’t getting the best dental care. Her first trip to a competent dentist in Butte confirmed her suspicions.
After a thorough examination the dentist asked but one question: "Been doing your own work?"
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While attending a laser seminar for obstetric and gynecologic surgeons, I found a booth where the doctors were encouraged to practice their laser skills on animal tissues. One young intern used an excellent technique dissecting a membrane.
"Where did you learn that?" I asked her. "Labs? Seminars? Conferences?"
"No way," she replied. "Nintendo!"
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When an increased patient load began to overwhelm our hospital’s emergency room, we initiated a triage system to ensure that the most critical people were treated first. However, some of the less seriously ill patients occasionally had to wait as long as several hours before they could be seen. Complaints were common.
One day, trauma cases abounded, and the wait was particularly long. A police officer came in and approached the unit clerk. "I hate to tell you this," he said apologetically, "but we just got a 911 call from your waiting room."
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I was in a department store when I heard on the public-address system that the optical department was offering free ice cream. I headed down the escalator to take advantage of the offer, trying to decide on vanilla or chocolate. I was nearly drooling when I got to the optical section and said to the clerk, "I’m here for my ice cream."
"Ice cream?" came the reply. "Sorry. What we have is a free eye screening."
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Good morning everyboomie.
I hope you got your rest. Get up and put on your Sunday best.
Or not.
I'll already be at work by the time most of you get up.......at 9:00?
I can't dismember the last time I slept that late.
I believe I'll wear my old shoes to work. My big right toe can't take another day of agony.
By the time I got home Friday, my foot felt like a ballerina's.
I used to take ballet.
I like wearing tutus.
Have a happy day everyone.
joe
acebook
witter
