Accident & Emergency, How I Love Thee
Sorry I've been silent. It's been crazy at work, and of course I got struck down by a massive migraine (thankfully I had nice doctor friend call me in some Fioricet). And I've been working on the super secret Christmas gift for Doctor Matt. But! Do I have a tale to tell.
Recently I worked second shift at City Hospital. Locum work, extra cash, etc. It was near the end of shift - right around 2200 - and I had just finished charting when Antoine (one of the nurses) tapped me on the shoulder.
"Yes?" I said.
"I have a real live one for you," he said, looking down his rather long nose with what can only be described as a very Gallic indication of distaste, and handed me the chart.
I scanned it. 21 y/o male, c/c "Cuts on my junk" - I started coughing.
"You're kidding, Antoine."
"He wouldn't let me examine his penis. Said I was - hmmm, I quote - 'some sort of gayrod.'"
I immediately burst into laughter. The combination of the patient's idiocy and Antoine's French accent in recounting it was too much.
"Okay, I'll see him. Point me to his cube," I said.
"I'll accompany you," said Antoine. "I have to see this."
I entered the cube. There sat a young man in a gown. He was clean-cut, with the kind of pale blond iciness that screams "old money."
"Hello, I'm Dr Livingstone," I said, pasting on a professional smile. "It says here you have cuts on your genitals?"
He blinked. "Uh, yeah, cuts on my junk."
"Have you injured yourself recently?"
"No," he said sullenly.
"Have you had any other symptoms?"
"It hurts when I pee, and some real smelly stuff has been coming out of my dick," he said.
I managed not to sigh.
"May I please examine your genitals, then?" I said. He nodded. "Lie back, please, and lift up your gown."
I blinked as I carefully examined. The chancre of primary syphilis? Check. The unmistakable cauliflower shaped growths of genital warts? Check. The unique lesions of herpes-simplex 2? Check. Foul discharge and painful urination? Check. Yup, this bell end had the grand slam of STI's. Charming.
"Sir, have you been having unprotected sex?" I asked, sweet as pie.
He scowled. "That bitch said she was clean!"
"Apparently she was lying," I said. "You have syphilis, gonorrhea, herpes, and genital warts, sir. Now, I'll be back in a few moments, and we'll discuss it. You can get dressed."
I left, fetched my prescription pad, and returned to find the idiot zipping up his jeans.
"I'm going to give you some prescriptions," I said. I scribbled them out. "Antibiotics should clear up the syphilis and gonorrhea. Here's an antiviral, for your herpes. It should help prevent and lessen outbreaks. And I want you to follow up with your primary care doctor, and get tested for HIV."
I handed him the scrips. "Oh, and one more thing."
"Yeah?"
"In future I suggest you use condoms."
"I'm a real man," he said. "I don't need those."
I pasted on my smile.
"Have a nice day, then."
More tales soon. Also, Toby has been such a sweetheart lately. When I was laid down with the migraine, he stayed glued to my side the whole time. Love my Toby!
Recently I worked second shift at City Hospital. Locum work, extra cash, etc. It was near the end of shift - right around 2200 - and I had just finished charting when Antoine (one of the nurses) tapped me on the shoulder.
"Yes?" I said.
"I have a real live one for you," he said, looking down his rather long nose with what can only be described as a very Gallic indication of distaste, and handed me the chart.
I scanned it. 21 y/o male, c/c "Cuts on my junk" - I started coughing.
"You're kidding, Antoine."
"He wouldn't let me examine his penis. Said I was - hmmm, I quote - 'some sort of gayrod.'"
I immediately burst into laughter. The combination of the patient's idiocy and Antoine's French accent in recounting it was too much.
"Okay, I'll see him. Point me to his cube," I said.
"I'll accompany you," said Antoine. "I have to see this."
I entered the cube. There sat a young man in a gown. He was clean-cut, with the kind of pale blond iciness that screams "old money."
"Hello, I'm Dr Livingstone," I said, pasting on a professional smile. "It says here you have cuts on your genitals?"
He blinked. "Uh, yeah, cuts on my junk."
"Have you injured yourself recently?"
"No," he said sullenly.
"Have you had any other symptoms?"
"It hurts when I pee, and some real smelly stuff has been coming out of my dick," he said.
I managed not to sigh.
"May I please examine your genitals, then?" I said. He nodded. "Lie back, please, and lift up your gown."
I blinked as I carefully examined. The chancre of primary syphilis? Check. The unmistakable cauliflower shaped growths of genital warts? Check. The unique lesions of herpes-simplex 2? Check. Foul discharge and painful urination? Check. Yup, this bell end had the grand slam of STI's. Charming.
"Sir, have you been having unprotected sex?" I asked, sweet as pie.
He scowled. "That bitch said she was clean!"
"Apparently she was lying," I said. "You have syphilis, gonorrhea, herpes, and genital warts, sir. Now, I'll be back in a few moments, and we'll discuss it. You can get dressed."
I left, fetched my prescription pad, and returned to find the idiot zipping up his jeans.
"I'm going to give you some prescriptions," I said. I scribbled them out. "Antibiotics should clear up the syphilis and gonorrhea. Here's an antiviral, for your herpes. It should help prevent and lessen outbreaks. And I want you to follow up with your primary care doctor, and get tested for HIV."
I handed him the scrips. "Oh, and one more thing."
"Yeah?"
"In future I suggest you use condoms."
"I'm a real man," he said. "I don't need those."
I pasted on my smile.
"Have a nice day, then."
More tales soon. Also, Toby has been such a sweetheart lately. When I was laid down with the migraine, he stayed glued to my side the whole time. Love my Toby!