Embarrassing Medical Exams
True stories as told by the doctors themselves…
1. A man comes into the ER and yells, “My wife’s going to have her baby in the cab!” I grabbed my stuff, rushed out to the cab, lifted the lady’s dress, and began to take off her underwear. Suddenly, I noticed that there were several cabs-and I was in the wrong one.2. At the beginning of my shift, I placed a stethoscope on an elderly and slightly deaf female patient’s anterior chest wall. “Big breaths,” I instructed. “Yes, they used to be,” replied the patient.

3. One day I had to be the bearer of bad news when I told a wife that her husband had died of a massive myocardial infarct. Not more than five minutes later, I heard her reporting to the rest of the family that he had died of a “massive internal fart.”

4. During a patient’s two-week follow-up appointment with his cardiologist, he informed me, his doctor, that he was having trouble with one of his medications. “Which one?” I asked. “The patch, the nurse told me to put on a new one every six hours, and now I’m running out of places to put it!” I had him quickly undress, and discovered what I hoped I wouldn’t see. Yes, the man had over fifty patches on his body! Now, the instructions include removal of the old patch before applying a new one.

5. While acquainting myself with a new elderly patient, I asked, “How long have you been bedridden?” After a look of complete confusion, she answered… “Why, not for about twenty years-when my husband was alive.”

6. I was caring for a woman and asked, “So, how’s your breakfast this morning?” “It’s very good, except for the Kentucky Jelly. I can’t seem to get used to the taste,” the patient replied. I then asked to see the jelly, and the woman produced a foil packet labeled “KY Jelly.”

7. As a new, young MD doing his residency in OB, I was quite embarrassed when performing female pelvic exams. To cover my embarrassment, I had unconsciously formed a habit of whistling softly. The middle-aged lady upon whom I was performing this exam suddenly burst out laughing and further embarrassing me. I looked up from my work and sheepishly said, “I’m sorry. Was I tickling you?” She replied, “No, doctor, but the song you were whistling was ‘I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Wiener’.”

Letter from the Dog
Dear Master:
The cat is despicable. She doesn’t do any tricks and never comes when you call and I’ve been there and I know she can hear you. We need to face the facts:

It’s time to get rid of the cat.

Before the cat’s arrival, meals were very festive times. I would sit and stare attentively at your lips, trembling slightly and drooling. You would play the game of pretending to be cross and demand that I leave the area, but whenever you cooked dinner your children would slip me food under the table.

Now, though, the cat is allowed to jump on the table-actually physically walk on the table! You don’t yell at the cat, you just pick her up and put her back on the floor, and I know you don’t see it, but she always gives me a haughty look as she walks past me.

And speaking of meals, I have always been satisfied to eat the gritty pellets of meat by-products you bring home in the giant bags, right? Have I ever once, ever, failed to finish a meal? But now I find out that the cat is being served lobster and salmon and crab-and she never consumes all of it! This means there are little containers of delectable snacks lying around and how can I be blamed for making sure they get eaten? Why do you get so mad? As long as the pet food is going to the pets, isn’t that what’s important?

Speaking of sanitation, do you realize that the cat goes to the bathroom in the house? And not in the drinking basins like you do, but in a sandbox in the basement. What are we going to say if some woman brings her baby over to play in the sandbox and the cat has been using it as a toilet? I used to police the thing for you, but you put it up out of my reach for some reason.

I’m not the only one who believes the cat is evil. Here’s a note from the hamster:

Subject: Cat
Please tell Cat to stop staring at me while I work.
Signed,
Hamster
Department of Rodent Wheels

I also tried to get a note from the fish, but apparently it believes that everything happening outside its bowl is some kind of reality-TV show.

I don’t understand why the cat is allowed up on the bed and I’m not. I am far more cuddly than any stupid cat. I think her purring sounds unhealthy and may be a sign of tuberculosis.

And why doesn’t she ever get a bath? She smells like saliva from licking her paws-you’d never catch me licking such ridiculous places. I often smell wonderful from rolling in road kill, yet you give me baths all the time.

And speaking of sleeping, sometimes I’ll be taking a nap and she’ll come right up and lie down beside me. Usually I’m too tired to do anything about it, but then later the other dogs smell her on me and crack a lot of jokes at my expense.

So, not to exaggerate, but the cat has brought the family to complete ruin. I’m sorry I have to be the one to bring it to your attention, but now that I have, I think we can all agree that we should go back to the way it was, when I was the #1 pet.

Sincerely,
The Dog

Because I’m a Man
Because I’m a man, when I lock my keys in the car I will fiddle with a wire long after hypothermia has set in. Triple A is not an option. I will win.

Because I’m a man, when the car isn’t running very well, I will pop the hood and stare at the engine as if I know what I’m looking at. If another man shows up, one of us will say to the other, “I used to be able to fix these things, but now with all these computers and everything, I wouldn’t know where to start.” We will then drink beer and break wind as a form of Holy Communion.

Because I’m a man, when I catch a cold, I need someone to bring me soup and take care of me while I lie in bed and moan. You’re a woman. You never get as sick as I do, so for you this isn’t a problem.

Because I’m a man, I can be relied upon to purchase basic groceries at the store, like milk or bread. I cannot be expected to find exotic items like “cumin” or “tofu.” For all I know, these are the same thing. And never, under any circumstances, expect me to pick up anything for which “feminine hygiene product” is a euphemism.

Because I’m a man, when one of our appliances stops working, I will insist on taking it apart, despite evidence that this will just cost me twice as much, once the repair person gets here and has to put it back together.

Because I’m a man, I must hold the television remote control in my hand while I watch TV. If the thing has been misplaced, I may miss a whole show looking for it (though one time I was able to survive by holding a calculator… applies to engineers mainly).

Because I’m a man, there is no need to ask me what I’m thinking about. The answer is always sex, cars, fishing, football (or golf). I have to make up something else when you ask, so don’t ask.

Because I’m a man, I do not want to visit your mother, or have your mother come visit us, or talk to her when she calls, or think about her any more than I have to. Whatever you got her for Mother’s Day is okay; I don’t need to see it. And don’t forget to pick up something for my mother, too.

Because I’m a man, you don’t have to ask me if I liked the movie. Chances are, if you’re crying at the end of it, I didn’t… and if you are feeling amorous afterwards… then I will certainly remember the name and recommend it to others.
Because I’m a man, and this is, after all, the year 2008, I will share equally in the housework. You just do the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning, the vacuuming, and the dishes, and I’ll do the rest… like wander around in the garden with a beer wondering what to do.

Because I’m a man, I think what you’re wearing is fine. I thought what you were wearing five minutes ago was fine, too. Either pair of shoes is fine. With the belt or without it, looks fine. Your hair is fine. You look fine. Can we just go now?

This has been a public service message for women to better understand the male. To make men’s life easier, please share it with other women to help them understand that certain expectations on their part were not necessarily agreed to by the male when their relationship was entered into.
The History of Aprons
I don’t think our kids know what an apron is.

The principal use of Grandma’s apron was to protect the dress underneath, but along with that, it served as a potholder for removing hot pans from the oven.
It was wonderful for drying children’s tears, and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.

From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven.

When company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids.

And when the weather was cold, grandma wrapped it around her arms.

Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove.

Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron.

From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables. After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls.

In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees.

When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds.

When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the porch, waved her apron, and the men knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.

It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace that old-time apron that served so many purposes.

REMEMBER:
Grandma used to set her hot baked apple pies on the window sill to cool. Her granddaughters set theirs on the window sill to thaw.
Praise for the Male
As we enter the summer and BBQ season, it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this sublime outdoor cooking activity, as it’s the only type of cooking a “real” man will do, probably because there is an element of danger involved.

When a man volunteers to do the BBQ, the following chain of events are put into motion:

Routine…
(1) The woman buys the food.
(2) The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert.
(3) The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man, who is lounging beside the grill-beer in hand.

Here comes the important part:
(4) THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL.
More routine…
(5) The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.
(6) The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is burning.
He thanks her and asks if she will bring another beer while he deals with the situation.

Important again:
(7) THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN.
More routine…
(8) The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces, and brings them to the table.
(9) After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.
And most important of all:
(10) Everyone PRAISES the MAN and THANKS HIM for his cooking efforts.
(11) The man asks the woman how she enjoyed her “night off.” And, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there’s just no pleasing some women.
When You Have an “I Hate My Job” Day
When you have an “I Hate My Job” day, try this:
On your way home from work, stop at your pharmacy and go to the thermometer section and purchase a rectal thermometer made by Johnson & Johnson.

Be very sure you get this brand. When you get home, lock your doors, draw the curtains, and disconnect the phone so you will not be disturbed.

Change into very comfortable clothing and sit in your favorite chair. Open the package and remove the thermometer. Now, carefully place it on a table or a surface so that it will not become chipped or broken.

Now the fun part begins.
Take out the literature from the box and read it carefully. You will notice that in small print there is the following statement:

“Every rectal thermometer made by Johnson & Johnson is personally tested and then sanitized.”

Now, close your eyes and repeat out loud five times: “I am so glad I do not work in the thermometer quality control department at Johnson & Johnson.”

Have a nice day and remember, there is always someone else with a job that is more of a pain in the butt than yours!