conversations with a resident

I apologize for the TMI nature of this post, but as many of you can attest to,sometimes you hear about nasty things when you hang out with a medical professional. In fact, sometimes it's all you hear about. 

...

Y: I think I chose the wrong career. I never see my wife, and my hand is always up someone's butt.

...

Y: I look at assholes all day long. They're the window to the soul.

...

The scene: Y just used a "Zip It" to unclog hair from the shower drain. I'm waiting outside the bathroom door because, along with heights and cockroaches, I'm deathly afraid of hair.

Y: silence
Y: silence
Y, barely audible: ewww...
Y, screaming: HOW ARE YOU NOT BALD?

I peek inside and gag at the sight of the hair in the trash can.

Y: The LINING OF YOUR UTERUS is in this trash can and you're grossed out by a little HAIR??

Heard anything funny from a medical professional lately? I want to hear it in the comments! 

(For more quotable Y moments, click here)

a romantic weekend with a resident

I used to write these "love stories"over on my other blog, we're just dandy. Today, I'm back with a new installment.

It's one of those blissful months where the boy works 8 to 5, has weekends off. The boy and the girl relish in sleeping in past 5:30 and eating long luxurious breakfasts together before they both depart for work. When the weekend comes, they spend as much time together as possible. This month, he's studying for Step 3, so the girl agrees to accompany him to their corner coffeeshop, where he studies intently.

As they get in the car (it's snowing, you see, in April -- she swears she's not bitter - so they choose to drive the eight blocks), he grabs her hand. 

"I'm so glad I finally get the chance to talk to you," he says. "I've been dying to tell you something."

What could it be? she wonders. How much he's missed me? How beautiful all of his co-workers think I am? Maybe he's taking me on a surprise date!

"I've been dying to tell you about this perirectal abscess we popped at work the other day."

He begins to describe the needle that was injected into this man's -- his words -- "taint". 

He's so excited, she thinks, And I should be supportive of his interests. But I honestly might barf. 

Later that night, after three cups of coffee and two practice tests, he's sleeping soundly. She brushes her teeth, crawls into bed, and gives him a hug. 

"You're so warm," she murmurs. He rolls over, mid-dream.

"THAT'S BECAUSE I'M THE ONLY ONE NOT HOOKED UP TO AN OXYGEN TANK LIKE THE REST OF THESE IDIOTS," he replies. 

She doesn't ask questions.

{read the other love stories here}