The assholes, on the other hand, make my time in the trauma bay much more entertaining. I can't say I prefer them per se, but this blog would frankly be impossible without them.
And thus enters Jack (not his real name™).
When Jack was first wheeled into my trauma bay, he immediately rubbed me the wrong way. It wasn't so much that he was acting obnoxiously, because he wasn't (at least not at first). Actually when he first got there, he was happy and giddy. I could almost describe him as spunky. He was smiling sharply, almost demoniacally so. He seemed to be muttering rhythmically under his breath. It took me a few seconds to realise he was singing.
"Hey everybody, this here is Jack," the medic started as he helped Jack off the gurney. "He crashed his car into a tree for some reason, don't know why. He refused to get out when the police got there, so they kinda roughed him up a bit. I think they whacked him on the left leg a few times, but I didn't take his pants off to look at their handiwork."
"They choked me too," Jack tossed off as the police officer shook his head No, we didn't.
He had definitely been beaten about his head, but he had no other obvious injuries.
Unbeknownst to me, Jack was well known by the emergency staff as a bit of a wanker, a jerk. Ok, that's putting it mildly - he was an asshole. He was also a frequent flyer - he seemed to come to our hospital on a regular basis whenever he took PCP, which was often. I examined him from head to toe, and other than having been spanked around a bit, by some stroke of luck Jack didn't look too worse for the wear. He tugged on my lab coat as I tried to walk away.
"Doc, they beat me. They beat me good."
I had to hand it to him, he was definitely persistent. But something about Jack's behaviour was rubbing me the wrong way. I just couldn't quite put my finger on it.
About a half hour later Jack's X-rays were all done, and they were (shockingly) all normal. I walked back in to give Jack the good news, but what greeted me was not was I expected.
Jack's hand was at his groin under the sheet, moving rather quickly. Wait, is he . . . It took me about 0.298 seconds (I didn't count) to realise what he was doing. Oh fucking hell, he is! There was no mistaking it and I wasn't imagining it - this was actually happening. Now at this point I had three options:
- Turn right back around, walk out, and pretend I didn't see anything.
- Stand and stare, completely bewildered.
- Ask him politely to stop.
I chose #3.
"Jack," I said, not believing the words coming out of my mouth. "Please stop masturbating."
No one had been looking at Jack before, but as soon as I said it, every set of eyes in the room turned immediately to Jack. "Jeez. . ." I heard several people mutter under their breath. For me it was hard just standing there as Jack sat smiling for just a moment, obviously pondering his options. And a second later it became obvious that the option that he went with was keep going.
Um . . . now what? What the hell do I do now? I was unprepared for the situation to begin with, and completely unprepared for this eventuality. He was supposed to have stopped! Unlike most situations, I had no prepared statements, no social norms I could fall back on, no fucking clue what to do.
So I shook my head and walked out. I had no other ideas.
Apparently he finished a few minutes later, because when I went back, he was getting dressed and preparing to leave with the police (he was under arrest for the car accident, not for, you know, that other thing). He had no shame on his face, no sheepish smile, seemingly no sense of remorse. He almost looked proud of himself. My staff, on the other hand, looked downright thrilled that he was leaving. Obviously.
I've said it many times here before, but just when I think I've seen it all, just when I think the Call Gods can't possibly think of anything new to throw at me, they come up with something. However, the day that the Call Gods call it quits is the day that I retire SftTB, because my source material will have officially dried up.
Note: A special prize will not be awarded to whoever finds the most. If you don't know what I mean by "the most", then you are guaranteed not to win. And by "special prize" I mean my undying esteem and respect. Not really.