Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Scrotal Day
I have been itching to write about all the beautiful places I've been to over my fat month holiday, but I guess it’ll have to wait till that itch gets smothered with a bit of happy thoughts. Current status is ‘in denial’.
Bit like wearing a big rock on your finger. Nice. It being a gift from your fiance. Double nice. But he got it by cutting off from a dead woman’s finger. Not nice.
Reasons would hopefully be apparent soon of why this intention of mine is currently best not be entertained just yet. I have to watch which way the wind blows, which way the trees sway, which direction the tumbleweed , erm..tumbles. As I said, I am in denial.
I was on call again and today, and was I lucky to get demonstrated how ‘scrotal hammock’ gets strapped on. So this 40 year old guy had a cyst removed from his ball 2 days ago and unlucky for him, it collected haematoma (blood) so that had to be rescued sooner rather than later.
Gina was telling me she once recklessly asked one of the dirty minded butchers ‘Would you like a scrotal support Mr. (insert surgeon’s name)’ at the end of the same procedure as this one.
‘Oh no thank you kind nurse, mine is quite snug’ he replied. We work long hours and the ventilation in the theatre must have been a bit inadequate, that’s all I can say.
Just before the chap drifted to sleep he muttered something about how us foreigners speak better English than the English themselves. Do you get that a lot too? Somehow I am sensitive about that. I wouldn’t take it to the extent of treating it as a racist remark but it definitely crossed my mind. Lucky for him I didn’t wake him up straight away to ask what he really meant by that.
The patient later woke up in tears with his scrotal harness securely fastened, crying his eyes out very much emotional about still being alive, clutching my hands with his nails digging into my palm.
I have received compliments before but not as profuse and so emotionally driven like that with pain inflicted at the same time. I momentarily felt like I have saved his entire house content from burglary by stretching out my foot so the burglar fell and hit his head over a pot with cactus in it which toppled hitting his eyes so he ran around in total blackout. And the bobbies came and handcuffed him away.
I stubbed his fingers with a pen when nobody was looking. You see it’s part of assessing patient’s pain sensation restoration. So he said ouch and let go of my hand. He won’t remember.
But I liked what he said and felt like it's just what I needed for a bleak day like this.
Thank you kind sir.
Apparently women who’ve had their uteruses out also tend to wake up weeping and emotional. It has got to be something to do with private parts being manipulated. Hmmmm. A peculiar paracrine effect maybe?
So there were men in whites, playing cricket in the lawn by my apartment. I passed the porter cabin and saw one in trance looking straight down at the space between his feet for good 2 minutes. I did not stare. It was more like lalallala look and quickly look away, what is he doing? , and then kept walking then look again. I later realized he was easing himself.
What would happen if I sneak behind him and say, do you come here often?
Working night shift tomorrow. Delirious already.
Bit like wearing a big rock on your finger. Nice. It being a gift from your fiance. Double nice. But he got it by cutting off from a dead woman’s finger. Not nice.
Reasons would hopefully be apparent soon of why this intention of mine is currently best not be entertained just yet. I have to watch which way the wind blows, which way the trees sway, which direction the tumbleweed , erm..tumbles. As I said, I am in denial.
I was on call again and today, and was I lucky to get demonstrated how ‘scrotal hammock’ gets strapped on. So this 40 year old guy had a cyst removed from his ball 2 days ago and unlucky for him, it collected haematoma (blood) so that had to be rescued sooner rather than later.
Gina was telling me she once recklessly asked one of the dirty minded butchers ‘Would you like a scrotal support Mr. (insert surgeon’s name)’ at the end of the same procedure as this one.
‘Oh no thank you kind nurse, mine is quite snug’ he replied. We work long hours and the ventilation in the theatre must have been a bit inadequate, that’s all I can say.
Just before the chap drifted to sleep he muttered something about how us foreigners speak better English than the English themselves. Do you get that a lot too? Somehow I am sensitive about that. I wouldn’t take it to the extent of treating it as a racist remark but it definitely crossed my mind. Lucky for him I didn’t wake him up straight away to ask what he really meant by that.
The patient later woke up in tears with his scrotal harness securely fastened, crying his eyes out very much emotional about still being alive, clutching my hands with his nails digging into my palm.
I have received compliments before but not as profuse and so emotionally driven like that with pain inflicted at the same time. I momentarily felt like I have saved his entire house content from burglary by stretching out my foot so the burglar fell and hit his head over a pot with cactus in it which toppled hitting his eyes so he ran around in total blackout. And the bobbies came and handcuffed him away.
I stubbed his fingers with a pen when nobody was looking. You see it’s part of assessing patient’s pain sensation restoration. So he said ouch and let go of my hand. He won’t remember.
But I liked what he said and felt like it's just what I needed for a bleak day like this.
Thank you kind sir.
Apparently women who’ve had their uteruses out also tend to wake up weeping and emotional. It has got to be something to do with private parts being manipulated. Hmmmm. A peculiar paracrine effect maybe?
So there were men in whites, playing cricket in the lawn by my apartment. I passed the porter cabin and saw one in trance looking straight down at the space between his feet for good 2 minutes. I did not stare. It was more like lalallala look and quickly look away, what is he doing? , and then kept walking then look again. I later realized he was easing himself.
What would happen if I sneak behind him and say, do you come here often?
Working night shift tomorrow. Delirious already.
