Alchemist is up late again blogging about more Alchemist Threadworks misadventures.
4:00am. Another night shift, and another hammering. The staff around here groan when they see me show up because they know it’s going to be a rough shift. I’ve come to accept it. It’s my lot in life.
While i really should be dictating so I can get it over with, I find the exercise so disdainful, that I find just about any reason not to do it (such as blogging). At least I did have one satisfied customer this evening. A fella with a bad case of stool impaction. The nurse couldn’t fix him. The enema did nothing, and the guy was in serious pain. So it was up to me. Armed with a gown, gloves, and a face mask, I did what any valiant soldier would do. I fell on that grenade.
“Okay, sir, just relax.”
“I need to you to be relaxed or this will hurt a lot more”
“It’s gonna hurt me a lot more than it’s gonna hurt you.”
Well, I couldn’t argue that.
“Okay, remember to breathe. Okay, now push. Keep pushing. Keeeeeep pushing. Okay, good job. We’ve got some good stuff out so far. you’re doing great.”
“It hurts like hell.”
“I know it does. but you’re doing great. remember to breathe.”
Delivering a giant turd is not unlike delivering a baby. It hurts a lot, it takes a lot of encouragement, and any modicum of modesty is thrown out the window. I can’t think of an encounter that is more intimate than me, elbow deep in another man’s poo hole, telling him how wonderful he’s doing. It’s a bond that we will share to the end of days.
After a lot of pushing on his part, and pulling on my part, the dam finally broke. Willy was free.
“I feel a thousand times better. Thank you so much.”
“Yes sir, it’s my job.”
Aah, yes. Another satisfied customer. Like unplugging ear wax, the catharsis of relieving a good stool impaction is worth the effort (and smell). It’s at least better than telling a patient I have no clue what’s wrong with them, and there is no test known to mankind that will help me find out. I had that conversation almost a dozen times tonight.
I’m getting some resistance to the houndstooth crotch on the Team kit. Come on, guys. If you don’t want people looking at your crotch, don’t look so damn good!
Time to dictate.