Parents to be...

"Get me a fag woman" snarled Sam. Jenny shrank even lower in her chair, pressing her back hard against the frame, even as she began searching her bag desperately for a cigarette. Even lying on a bed in a hospital gown Sam managed to instill fear in his woman.

"Sam, you can't smoke in here" I explained as I began to change Sam's bag of intravenous fluids."Yeah, just wanna hold it, no harm in me holding it" Sam said. Jenny had given up trying to look for a cigarette and now sat with arms crossed, resting on her distended belly. She looked to be nearing the end of her third trimester, which may have explained why she was in bare feet, even though they didn't look particularly swollen.

"Woman, where's me fag?" Sam demanded. Jenny shrugged her shoulders "Don't have any" she replied. Sam's face turned to me, looking me in the eye "What're they good for eh? Nothing, can't even get her man a fag" Sam said to me as if confiding to a friend. "Well go and get me some" Sam paused while Jenny sat there unmoving, "Now." Jenny got up off her seat, and wandered out into the rain, barefoot, without a coat, and pregnant.

Twenty minutes later Jenny returned, soaking wet, shivering, and handed her husband a pack of cigarettes which he promptly opened and began to light up. I promptly made him put it out. With much cursing and threatening he responded by making Jenny carry his bag of IV fluids while he stood outside the main door puffing away.

Sam was discharged later that day, his wife in tow, barefoot, wet, pregnant, and carrying Sam's bags.

Read more!

This should never happen to a man

"Ah, I have a big bloody problem" said Mr Jones to nurse Brooke. Nurse Brooke was young, blonde, and just out of college. She had been accepted straight into the emergency room immediately post graduation. This was the hospital's new orientation policy and it was not too popular with some of the staff. The problem was that many nurses felt she should spend at least a year or two in the wards first. But Brooke's easy going personality and good looks, soon won over even the most hardened emergency room veteran. Especially the doctors.

"Well, that's what we're here for Mr Jones, fixing problems" Brooke explained. Mr Jones didn't look at all comfortable with Brooke. He wouldn't make eye contact and kept looking at the floor while grasping his privates. "I don't suppose there's any men around are there?" Mr Jones asked "I've got a problem down below, if you take my meaning, and it's fucking sore." Brooke felt the heat rise up her neck and turn her face bright red. "Ah, sure, I can get a male to have a look. But I really don't mind having a look. I'm a nurse, after-all." Mr Jones briefly made eye contact with Brooke "Trust me, it ain't pretty. But if you can help with the pain, go ahead." By now Brooke's cursiosity was well and truly aroused and she was almost eager to have a look 'down below.' "Well, ok then" Mr Jones began to unbutton his trousers.

I was seeing a patient in the bed next to Mr Jones and had heard everything. I was very curious myself as to what was going on 'down below' but kept out of the way as Brooke had everything under control.

"Oh my god" exclaimed Brooke. "Bloody hell. Be gentle woman" exclaimed Mr Jones. "I'm so sorry. Oh my god. What happened?" asked Brooke. "Don't touch a thing. Don't touch a bloody thing" said Mr Jones. "I'm sorry. I won't touch a thing. Here, let me just put a bit of gauze on it" offered Brooke. Brooke then emerged from behind the curtain and came over to me, her face pale in shock. "Ah, I think you'd better have a look" Brooke said. I wasted no time and went to look at Mr Jones' privates.

"How did you do that?" I asked Mr Jones. I was staring at a very bloody, mangled stump of penis. "Do you know what a Prince Albert is?" asked Mr Jones. I nodded my head, my face wincing in sypathy because I knew what he was going to say next. A Prince Albert is a chain that is threaded down the penis and is then pierced through the wall of the penis and the chain is then joined to form a loop. "Well, it fucking got caught didn't it. It damn near ripped the whole thing off" he said. It didn't really matter how he ripped it off, but I had to know "Ah, but how did you rip it off?" I asked. He lowered his voice so only I could hear "Ah, caught in some machinery, that's all." There was nothing more he would say and nothing more I could do, so went and got the doc.

Doctor Kassner was the senior doctor on duty that night and he was very talented with a needle and thread. Between Doctor Kassner, myself and nurse Brooke we spent the next hour suturing Mr Jones' penis back together. He was then admitted to the ward for overnight observation and sent home the next morning.

Two weeks later Brooke and I were working together again when Mr Jones came in to have his sutures removed. He certainly looked a lot livlier than his last visit although this was probably because his penis hadn't fallen off and he could pee normally. In fact he was in such good spirits that it was with tongue in cheek Brooke advised him that he should not get another Prince Albert. "You're bloody kidding right?" said Mr Jones.

Read more!

Embarrassing the kids

Everyone liked Greg. It wasn't because he was especially kind or especially generous, although that is not to say that he wasn't either of those. He was just a normal teenager who loved to laugh and loved to make those around him laugh. His favorite trick was to take out his false eye and scare the girls or impress the boys.

"Give it back" I overheard Greg say to the other boys at his table. I was sitting with my wife a few tables away and my ears perked up. "Come on guys, give me back my eyeball" I looked over at the table and saw Greg make a grab towards the kid on his left. It bothered me to think that Greg was being made fun of, especially since his false eye made him an easy target for vindictive teenagers. I had the feeling that Greg didn't really want to take his eyeball out, but he did it because by laughing along with others at himself, it helped him cope with all the attention he received. I thought I had better intervene.

"Hey guys" I called out to the lads, "Give Greg his eyeball back" Everyone at the table burst into laughter, Greg laughing the loudest. "What's so funny? Just give him his eyeball back" I said again. Greg finally managed to catch his breath "I said I-pod, not eyeball." I felt the blood rush to my face "You're awfully red" one of the kids remarked. The laughter continued, my wife laughing just as hard as the rest.

Read more!

He was a She

I never meant to offend him. Oops, there I go again. He is now a She and I'm supposed to call him Miss. He's the first sex change patient I've ever looked after. I was supposed to check his surgical wound, or operation site is more like it, but I ended up asking one of the female staff to take a look.

He still looked like a man, he still needed to shave, although he did have long wavy blonde hair which most women would die for. I know as a nurse I'm supposed to be professional and not think the strange thoughts going through my head, but I can't help it. This man had 'IT' chopped off. I don't even know if they took his testicles off as well. If they did he must have to take hormone treatment or something. I wonder what sort of chromosones he has. I've heard of people with and extra X or extra Y chromosone, so I imagine that must be confusing.

He didn't talk to me much during the course of the day, in fact I would say he looked rather depressed. I hope he wasn't regretting his decision because it's way too late now. Unsurprisingly his voice didn't change, didn't become higher by an octave or two.

I don't mean to sound cruel or uncaring, and this may not seem like a big deal to most people, but what do I say to the guy. Maybe he's pissed off at me because I keep calling him Mr Jones instead of Mrs.

Curiousity is such a powerful force, and by the end of the shift I was almost regretting not having checked on the surgical site. Would it look normal, would it be convincing. Oh well, maybe I'll come across another patient like this one day, maybe in another twelve years.

Read more!