We all need a laugh and this true story,
courtesy of a nursing friend of mine should do the job.
Years ago a friend of mine was working in a very busy maternity hospital.
One day they were short of nurses in the out patients department,
so she was sent to make up the numbers.
The consultant she was working with,
was notoriously short of patience with his patients!
As a result the nurses were under pressure,
as he wanted everything ready,
so he could put in the minimum of time.
One young girl checked in.
She was in her early twenties,
and was for removal of sutures.
(now men stick with me I promise its not gory).
My friend showed her to a cubicle,
drew the curtains,
and asked her to remove her jeans and underwear.
“You can put this blanket over you,
and I will be back shortly” she said.
A short time later she returned to check on her young lady.
There she was sitting up on the bed,
jeans and underwear still on.
My friend repeated her instructions,
re the removal of her clothing.
“I will be back in a minute,
and the consultant will be along very soon”, she said,
in what she hoped was a friendly and reassuring voice.
The young girl never moved.
My nursing pal left again,
but was convinced she was not going to get co operation.
She peeped in moments later,
to see the young patient still sitting fully clothed.
My friend began to get agitated.
This would really upset the consultant,
and God only knows what he would say to this young girl,
or her when he was delayed.
So back in once more she went,
this time taking no chances.
She personally supervised the removal of the jeans and underwear,
placed the blanket over her patient,
and told her the consultant would be in in a minute.
Sure enough Mr Important arrived and swept along the corridor.
In and out of various cubicles they went,
dealing with all the post pregnancy ladies,
in his usual swift manner.
At last they opened the curtains to our young lady.
She was sitting up looking very tense.
The consultant said a curt “Hello”.
Then he asked my friend “What is she here for?”.
“Removal of sutures”, my friend replied.
The consultant began to put on gloves,
whilst my friend moved over to the bed.
The young girl clutched the blanket to her chest,
as my friend did her best to pull it down.
This unspoken disagreement continued for a few moments.
Eventually one last grab,
and the blanket was gone.
The consultant approached the bed,
heading towards the young girls nether region.
“Let’s have a look” he said.
At this point the young lady had her feet drawn up,
and my friend was trying unsuccessfully to prise her knees apart.
The young girl finally spoke up in a strong Dublin accent,
“Scuse me docktur”,
“Me stitches are up here!”.
Both my friend and the consultant looked up,
to see the young girl holding up her fringe,
to show them a small cut with five stitches on her forehead!
It would appear she had fallen whilst on holiday the week before,
and had been told to go to any hospital when she got home to have the stitches taken out.
The maternity hospital just happened to be the closest!