The perils of being a healthcare worker and falling ill
Created | Updated Jul 1, 2002
For many years I was a biochemist and worked in my local hospital pathology department. It was standard practice to go for a drink on Friday nights after work and this was a normal Friday, so I did.
I noticed a rather attractive nurse at the bar and asked her if she wanted a drink, she declined alcohol and opted for a coke. The night was going swimmingly but I began to feel ill, very ill, ill enough for my mate to take me round to the casuality department as I was doubled over in pain. The doctor on duty pronounced acute appendicitis and I was duely whipped off to the ward to await surgery.
Traumatic though this was the situation slid even faster downhill, the nurse I had been chatting up appeared, razor in hand and pronounced that I had to be shaved. This was mortifying enough but worse still was the reaction of my neither regions to this blonde very attactive woman even though I was in agony at the time. To this day I am eternally greatful that she declined the drink. Blonde, plus alcohol, plus razor, plus neither regions with a mind of their own, I still shudder at the thought.
The toe curling embarasment didnt end there, oh no, I saw this woman in the corridor every day for the next 5 years and everytime we met I couldnt help but turn the colour of beetroot.
The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach was deepened by the way she always smiled a knowing smile and giggled as she walked past.
Ok, so it could be said I chose my career and should face up to it like a man but this torture is not confined to those who are employed by the service as my ex-wife can testify. Her worst momment was when she was giving birth to our first child. There were problems and a paediatrician was called to the delivery room.
Needless to say she knew him well and the last time she had seen him at a hospital social event he was standing astride two beer barrels rather the worse for alcohol.
To this day she still says this is why she required forceps the reason being, and I quote,
"How could I push with that p*** head peering at me from the end of the bed!!!"
In conclusion and as a general piece of advice, if you work in the health service and are begining to feel unwell hop into a taxi and tell the taxi driver to take you as far as your cash will allow.
I noticed a rather attractive nurse at the bar and asked her if she wanted a drink, she declined alcohol and opted for a coke. The night was going swimmingly but I began to feel ill, very ill, ill enough for my mate to take me round to the casuality department as I was doubled over in pain. The doctor on duty pronounced acute appendicitis and I was duely whipped off to the ward to await surgery.
Traumatic though this was the situation slid even faster downhill, the nurse I had been chatting up appeared, razor in hand and pronounced that I had to be shaved. This was mortifying enough but worse still was the reaction of my neither regions to this blonde very attactive woman even though I was in agony at the time. To this day I am eternally greatful that she declined the drink. Blonde, plus alcohol, plus razor, plus neither regions with a mind of their own, I still shudder at the thought.
The toe curling embarasment didnt end there, oh no, I saw this woman in the corridor every day for the next 5 years and everytime we met I couldnt help but turn the colour of beetroot.
The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach was deepened by the way she always smiled a knowing smile and giggled as she walked past.
Ok, so it could be said I chose my career and should face up to it like a man but this torture is not confined to those who are employed by the service as my ex-wife can testify. Her worst momment was when she was giving birth to our first child. There were problems and a paediatrician was called to the delivery room.
Needless to say she knew him well and the last time she had seen him at a hospital social event he was standing astride two beer barrels rather the worse for alcohol.
To this day she still says this is why she required forceps the reason being, and I quote,
"How could I push with that p*** head peering at me from the end of the bed!!!"
In conclusion and as a general piece of advice, if you work in the health service and are begining to feel unwell hop into a taxi and tell the taxi driver to take you as far as your cash will allow.
