Another Sunday night, another visit to the ER

Roommate2.0 sliced his finger open last night while trying to open a glass bottle with some sort of tool. So, after cleaning up the glass shards I took him and his bloody finger over to the Emergency Room at BIDMC. They fixed him up, but not before we realized that we can't try to escape fate.

We had high hopes of making it through this visit without having an ER neighbor with something bad happening below the belt.

Patient (who speaks very loudly): "Yeah... at first it was small, like a pea. Next thing I knew it swelled up. I thought I was growing a third testicle!"

Doctor announces she has to do a rectal exam. Gloves up.

Patient: "I've never had a rectal exam given by a female. Wait, there was one, a long time ago. She told me that since her fingers were a lot smaller than a guy's, I might enjoy it."

Doc: "Well, my fingers are smaller, but I can't guarantee that you're going to enjoy this."

Roommate2.0 and I tried really really really hard not to laugh out loud, which of course only makes you laugh harder. We could not look at each other for fear of hyena-like laughter erupting from our little curtained corner.

We also decided that it's time for BIDMC to come up with some sort of frequent flier program for those of us who are huge klutzes. Like ensuring me a good parking spot or something. But seriously, we're starting to think that some ER staffers recognize us.

(Note- This isn't meant to make light of those return patients who are drug seeking or being abused. That is terrible and those people deserve real help, not parking perks.)