Ganked from a student doctor forum. Priceless bits of wisdom herein:
Tonight I learned yet another helpful life lesson from one of my patients. If you’re on the street corner selling coke and you see the cops coming to bust you don’t eat all your coke. Having been taught this valuable lesson I will now know better than to do this and wind up going to the ER in handcuffs, seizing uncontrollably, aspirating my vomit and doing all of this with a white powder mustache looking like an ad for “Got Coke?”
Always pay your drug dealer! Bad things happen when you don’t pay your drug dealer.
Always be polite to strangers. No matter how tough one thinks he is, there is always someone bigger, badder, or more likely to use violence to accentuate his point.
Stay away from people named “Some Guy” or “This One Dude”, because they, for whatever reason, just punch someone in the face or hit them with a crowbar and run off. If I see them on the street, I cross the street to get away from them.
If “Some Guy” or “This One Dude” live in YOUR city, don’t sit out on your front porch reading the Bible and minding your own business at 2 AM unless you are praying to be shot.
If “Some Guy” or “This One Dude” broke your arm while you were walking home from church on a Friday night, and the trauma surgeon fixed it via external fixation, DO NOT, by any means, use a wire-cutter to remove it four days after discharge.
Never, ever leave flashlights, shampoo bottles, beer bottles or any long, cylindrical object on the floor because someday you will fall on it and it will, somehow, work its way up your rectum.
Never run from the police, especially if it’s a K-9 unit.
Always wait until you have finished your woodwork with a SkillSaw before you enjoy taking some of your meth.
Don’t swerve your Suzuki Samari to avoid hitting a squirrel in the middle of the road.
Never leave your last refill of Percocet in plain sight after your doctor’s office closes if one of these three friends is coming over for dinner:
1. Some dude
2. My friend
3. That bitch
Another Professor of Life came through last night and bestowed some wisdom upon me which I’ll share: No matter how annoyed you are at being incarcerated, don’t slash open your scrotum and shove razor blades up your urethra. Now I know, who among us hasn’t thought wistfully of doing that, but it turns out that it’s not a good idea.
Latex paint, despite being thick and creamy, does not coat your stomach and provide the same relief as Pepto Bismol.
If you are going to get into a fight, and have a prosthetic eye, make sure you take it out first…and, for safe keeping, shove it up your vagina…even if it is likely that you will then realize that you cannot get it out and have to go to the ER to remove it.
No matter how tough you are, don’t cross the street when you are drunk because the moving vehicle always wins.
Don’t cut off your own penis and testicles with a knife. Also, when attempting a self-circumcision, do not use dry ice to numb the area… and then, when the dry ice sticks to the… ah…. area, do not attempt to remove the dry ice with boiling water.
Don’t swallow quarters. If it was a bad idea when you were a child, it’s probably still a bad idea when you are a 45 year old man.
If you’ve been admitted overnight, it’s perfectly fine to go ahead and have your girlfriend take you “out for a smoke” in order to leave hospital property and shoot up via your spanking new central line (installed because all your veins are shot). She can just pull into the ER and have someone wheel you back inside.
If you are given a prescription for narcotics, wait until the Rx is filled before you try to sell them via the payphone in the hospital lobby.
No matter how badly constipated you are, a vodka enema is not a good idea.
Drinking Pine Sol diluted in a 5-gallon bucket, shared with five friends, is not a good way to get drunk.
The character Sancho Panza is well known for the aphorism, “whether the pitcher hits the stone or the stone hits the pitcher, it’s bound to be bad for the pitcher.” This can be extended to many categories. For instance: whether the person hits the train or the train hits the person, it’s bound to be bad for the person. Think of how many times your friendly ER doctors have filled this sentence structure with two objects during the last 24 hours.
If you come in with a salsa jar in your rectum, don’t give the staff a fruit cake as a thank you present. (At least it wasn’t nachos.)
Special help for the psychologically disturbed:
* If you have been in your LOCKED APARTMENT for the past 48 hours, all alone, it is highly unlikely that you have been raped in your sleep.
* You are not an alchoholic if you only drink a total of 2-3 beers per month.
* The government probably does not in fact have a microchip in your spine and a camera planted in your eyeball so they can see everything you see.
* If your dentures do not stick to your gums, it’s probably not a good idea to SuperGlue them in!
* Despite your recent success at cutting off your own arm with a steak knife, you probably do not need to cut off your scrotum and testicles with said knife.
* If the doctor asks you if it hurts where he is touching you, and he is, at that particular moment, NOT TOUCHING YOU, don’t answer that he is hurting you.
If you get bitten by a stray dog then be sure and go home, get your gun, and shoot five different stray dogs because you could not remember which one it was that bit you. Then be sure to bring all five dogs to the Emergency Room so that we can test them for rabies.
Don’t try to pierce yourself with a large gauge fishing hook (especially a Prince Albert) or decide that the medical equipment in your room is included in your stay; you really won’t be able to use that chest tube that you try to stuff into your purse or the epistaxis clamp that you think would increase the pleasure of your sexual adventures.
When stealing a Rx pad, be sure to fill it out correctly when turning it into the pharmacy the following day. They realize something is fishy when you write a scrip for “1.2 pownds of Mofin”.
Mosquito bites itch. A lot. Really, really bad. So much in fact that, what the heck, you may as well go on in to the Emergency Department. Did I mention they really itch? Bad? Under no circumstances should you apply calamine, or benadryl lotion, or really anything at all, to try to alleviate the itching. It’s not like you can just get that kind of miracle drug at the store. Much better to just come on in. If you’ve been triaged, you’ve been to see the ER admissions folks, and then you need to wait all of 30 minutes before being able to see a doctor, well, shoot, that’s too long. Just tell the staff you appreciate it all the same, but you need to go.
When your 15 year old daughter gives precipitous delivery to a bleating, underweight infant 30 minutes after presenting to triage with “gas pains”, you should definitely run around the department loudly yelling, “I don’t know what y’all did or who that baby is, but my lil’ girl warn’t pregnant when she come in here!”
Alcohol, table saws, and flannel shirts do not mix.
Make sure to have your boyfriend re-insert the same 12″ dildo that was taken out of your “booty” with twice as much force this time (after it was in there for a few hours and was forcibly removed by the ER personnel 2 hours ago) because surely the hole is now open enough that it won’t get stuck a second time.
Injecting a mixture of wine, Klonopin, and Lidocaine into your veins may seem like a cool idea at the time when you’re wasted, but is best avoided.
After cutting your own throat with a box knife and missing all major vessels, it is a good idea to stand outside and have a smoke while awaiting the ambulance… the crew will likely get a good laugh out of watching the smoke pour out of your nearly-transected trachea!
If you are in police custody and are brought to the ED for evaluation, do not go to the bathroom then try to escape through the ceiling, because the Styrofoam ceiling will probably collapse at some point and the NYPD standing outside the bathroom door might notice your bare behind, scantily covered by the hospital gown, hanging out of the ceiling.
It takes three large adults to hold down one five year old with a bead up his nose so the ENT can get it out without ramming the hook into his little five year old brain (the same brain that thought sticking the bead up there so he could gross out his sister was a good idea).
The vagina is not the best place to store those pieces of broken glass you were collecting.
If your buddy has sustained major trauma, GSW, spinal cord injury, epidural hematoma, et cetera, don’t call an ambulance. Instead, load him in the back of your car or, even better, your pick-up truck and drive aimlessly around town, potentially going right past two, three, even four trauma centers in order to eventually show up at my ambulance bay. Since I have no neurosurgeons and my trauma surgeon is as much as 30 minutes out, then–if your buddy is still alive–it’s guaranteed to make my life interesting, at least.
If you call EMS because your husband has collapsed on the floor, it might be a good idea to mention that he actually collapsed two days earlier and hasn’t moved since. Should you let this minor point slip your mind, try not to attack various members of the responding agency because they are not saving his life.
Please, by all means bring your child into the ER in the middle of the night for a HIGH fever (which the triage RN records as 99.0), stay for 30 minutes, and then request a doctor’s excuse because you have to be at work in three hours.
Please, please, please bother the admissions people about why the wait is so long (for your ‘sinus infection’)…after all, you’ve been here for hours and that old guy clutching his chest JUST walked in!
Whatever you do…never, ever, EVER only have “only ONE drink” before driving, serious consequences could result.
If you have a severe case of diarrhea, the BEST cure would be two laxatives…that way you can just get rid of all of it at once and be done with it.
Do go into triage and tell the RN you are here for a sore throat, and then happen to add on that you have a ‘irregular period’…we are really stupid and we don’t realize that you just want a pregnancy test.
If you are a psych patient in need of hospitalization, do not argue your point against staying by ripping the surgical lamp off the ceiling and threatening to electrocute yourself with the loose wires. We called the NYPD. The NYPD called the SWAT team. The SWAT team had to take down the guy using a Taser gun.
Do not leave your daily methadone dose on the kitchen counter in a kid’s Sippie Cup where your 2-year-old son can easily reach for it and chug it down.
If you are going to commit suicide, by all means, drink liquid potpourri. At least your breath will be fresh and fruity as you are doubled over with SEVERE abdominal cramps. Yes, that is the way I want to go out: in excruciating pain.
If you call for an ambulance for that non-traumatic back pain (that you have been having for two years) at 2 AM, then please have all of your family (with perfectly running cars) block the driveway so that we have to park WAY down the street.
If you want to see me more often, do take your insulin and don’t eat. We are sure to meet.
The larger you are, the smaller the bathroom will be that you die in.
If you are having chest pain, don’t go into the bathroom.
If you are having your sixth baby, do not wait until the contractions are ten minutes apart.
If you come to the ER (by EMS of course) with 2 days of priapism–which you’ve had before–and I aspirate and inject your penis with Phenylephrine and it starts to go down, don’t sit in your bed and stroke yourself until it gets hard again.
If you and your two friends decide to have a little party one December evening in your 3rd floor attic apartment and one of those friends is occupying the bathroom; it is not a good idea to climb out on the roof of the house in the middle of an ice storm to take a leak. This could result in you falling off the roof with your wiener hanging out. If this does occur, be sure to ask the cop if you will be arrested. He will tell you that he can’t arrest people just for being stupid. The EMS crew will try very hard not to laugh as we backboard you and give you a lift to the ED with a fractured ankle and your wiener still hanging out.
Don’t allow someone with a known poorly-controlled seizure disorder perform oral sex on you.
Windex, hairspray, acetone, Ajax…they are not as delicious as they sound.
Only Santa will actually fit down a chimney. All the way down, anyway. Santa can also get back out without the rescue squad.
Know your medicines and diseases. Your doctor might be able to parse “peanut butter balls” and “smilin’ mighty Jesus” as “Phenobarbital” and “spinal meningitis.” Or she might not.
If you’re trying to fake a generalized seizure, turning off that ringing cell phone in your pocket is gonna be conspicuous no matter how much you try to incorporate it into your clonic movements. Also, always fake the seizure before and/or after the EEG, not DURING.
If you are REALLY drunk and need to urinate, the best place to do it is off of the ledge of a freeway overpass. You will never, ever fall off.
Sitting on the porch minding your own business is the #1 cause of knife wounds.
Mortality from penetrating trauma is inversely related to number of tattoos.
If you have a known aortic dissection, crack cocaine is a poor choice of recreation.
Despite popular belief, coat hangers are not a cure for constipation.
Incidence of MRI claustrophobia is directly proportional to abdominal girth.
Trouble brewing: orthodontic braces + fellatio.
Never go through with a surprise visit to your 15-year-old girlfriend at her house at 1 AM when her father is card-carrying member of the NRA.
AJAX may smell good…but for God’s sake….don’t huff it!
Avoid taunting a Rottweiler with your scalp.
If somehow a ping pong ball should make its way into your rectum and you cannot retrieve it, do not mix yourself a cement enema, as this will only make your problems worse.
Do not store your detergent in the refrigerator. Especially if you and your wife are elderly and mildly demented.
If you’re trying to convince me that you’re not psychotic and should be allowed to go home, don’t tell me that the reason the police brought you to the ER is that they didn’t know that you are the one, true you and that all the other yous are just Replicants that have been being produced since “they” put microchips in your head. Seal the deal by saying that you may have to kill yourself to stop the replication process.
The next time a cockroach crawls in your ear while you are sleeping, be sure to stick your finger in your ear and plug it so it can’t get out, then run to the ER for us to take it out. Then, as I squirt viscous Lidocaine into your ear canal, tell me how gross that feels!
After you bring your 775-lb body to the ER complaining about a foul odor from your rectum (fouler than usual, I am assuming–don’t all butts kinda smell?) and, upon examination (with one person holding up the left buttocks with all his might), a lost television remote is found abscessed inside your gluteal (buttock) fold, then, by all means, ask if you can have it back because you are tired of changing channels with your cane and by throwing objects at the television. Really, there is no need to question just how or why the remote is there.
Using a blow-torch to work on your car (near the fuel tank, of course!) is pretty much guaranteed to win you a tour of the Burn Unit, followed by a free trip to the morgue.
If your family/doctor/government/whatever has taken away your driver’s license because you have frequent seizures and refuse to take your Pheno, please use a riding lawn-mower as your primary means of transportation. Chances are you won’t seize, hit a telephone pole, burn your leg and scalp on the mower as you fall off of it, and cause a power outage in your surrounding area.
If you’re complaining, you’re still breathing. Congratulations.