YOU HAVE TO LOVE A GOOD NURSE
A motorcycle patrolman was rushed to the hospital with an inflamed appendix. The doctors operated and advised him that all was well; however, the patrolman kept feeling something pulling at the hairs in his crotch. Worried that it might be a second surgery and the doctors hadn’t told him about it, he finally got enough energy to pull his hospital gown up enough so he could look at what was making him so uncomfortable. Taped firmly across his pubic hair and private parts were three wide strips of adhesive tape, the kind that doesn’t come off easily — if at all. Written on the tape in large black letters was the sentence, ‘Get well soon – from the nurse in the Jeep you pulled over last week.’
Kinda brings tears to your eyes doesn’t it.
CALLING IN SICK!
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying.
On one occasion, I had a valid reason, but lied anyway because the truth
was too humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury
and I hoped I would feel like coming in the next day. By then, I
thought, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown.
The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife’s wishes to
adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem,
but one morning I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my
wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. “Ed!! The garbage disposal is
dead. Come and reset it.”
“You know where the button is.” I protested through the shower. “Reset
it yourself!”
“I’m scared!” she pleaded. “What if it starts going and sucks me in?”
(Pause) “C’mon, it’ll only take you a second.”
So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement
about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing hysterical laughter.
It had struck without warning, without any respect to my circumstances.
Nay, it wasn’t a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth.
It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied
between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most
vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered, and snagged them
with her needle-like claws.
I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, while
rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten
hanging from my masculine region. Wild animals are sometimes faced
with a “fight or flight” syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only
the “flight” option. Fleeing straight up, the sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.
At the office, my colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept
silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about.
“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” ………………If they had
only known!
KEEP SMILING!