Friday, 14 December 2018

RFO time yet again

WARNING: NSFW PICTURES BELOW

Seriously . . . very NSFW pictures DO NOT read this in the presence of children. 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Several people have emailed me over the past two months to ask if I'm ok because my blog has been silent. I thank you good people very kindly for your concern, but I assure you I'm fine. But good lord, you people are right! It's been over two months since I've written anything. Well, that isn't exactly true - I've tried to sit down and write several times, and I now have 10 (!!) posts partially written and sitting abandoned in my "Drafts" folder. And by "partially written" I mean "a paragraph or two". And by "a paragraph or two" I mean "a sentence". Or a title.

Sigh. Writer's block sucks.

It isn't that I don't have material, it's just that lately I don't seem to have the desire to sit and do it for whatever reason. It isn't mentally exhausting to write and it isn't terribly difficult. Hell, I could sit in my car and dictate a blog post if I wanted to. It's just that I didn't want to.

Until now. Because it's rectal foreign object time again!

If I seem excited, it's because I am. Call it macabre or bizarre, call it weird, call it really fucking disgusting if you prefer. But these cases are, well, fun. There's no way around it - they're just fun. And lest you think it's just me, it isn't.

I always worried that it was just me until yesterday, because yesterday I had the opportunity to have an RFO Battle Royale with one of my colleagues, Dr. T (not his real name™).

And I lost.

I lost.

I told Dr. T about my latest RFO, which happened to be a small pill bottle. Wrapped in a condom. Wrapped in yet another condom. Unfortunately the bottle had slipped up way too high and could not be extracted from below. Normally we can reach up (yes, really) either with our fingers or some surgical grasper, grab the . . . thing, and then pull it out the way it went in. But this bottle was so high (like 25 cm high) it could not be reached. So I was forced to enter his abdomen the old fashioned way ("Never let the skin get between you and a diagnosis"), and squeeze the bottle down his colon into his rectum. As I pushed it through, I said to the assistant who was waiting down below to catch it, "Ok, it should be crowning".

If you aren't laughing right now, then you don't have kids, because that's fucking hilarious.

As I related this story (and my infamous Coke bottle story) to Dr. T, he merely stood there impassive with a slight smile on his face, because he knew that he had already won. Apparently those stories didn't even come close to Dr. T's best (worst?). He then told me not his best story, not his two best, but his three best stories, any one of which could beat any one of mine.

Yeah, I lost badly.

3) The third best story starts with "He was bored". Normally when I get bored I read a book or something, but not this guy. Nooooooo. This guy (yes, it's always a guy) put an enormous dildo in his rectum and then lost it. It could be felt from below, but it could also be felt from above. WAY above. Like at his umbilicus (navel (belly button)). Because this wasn't just a normal dildo, it was one of these:
I warned you there were NSFW pictures. I fucking warned you.

Anyway, Dr. T took him to the operating theatre, put him to sleep, and grabbed it from below with a surgical clamp like we always do. There was one problem - if you look at the bottom of that, uh, device, you'll see a little dial. Dr. T, unfortunately, couldn't, because he didn't yet know it was there. I'm sure by now you see where this is going. Dr. T grabbed the dial, twisted to try to extract the object, and turned the damned thing on. Apparently this one didn't just vibrate, it also rotated. After the initial shock and panic, the rotation actually helped free it from its environment and it slid back out to freedom.

One loss.

2) The objects we remove are mostly phallic, for obvious reasons. Mostly. The second best story Dr. T told me involved a bone cutter.

What?

You heard me. Indeed, this man had inserted a pair of metal cooking tongs. I'm sure you've seen them before. You know, one of these:
If you're wondering, he inserted the small end first, "small" of course being a relative term. If you look carefully at the grasping end you'll see a very small gap between the end of the metal and the body of the tongs. As they were being removed, that little gap had been able to trap a tiny ridge of rectal mucosa and was unable to let go, so Dr. T had to use a bone cutters to snip off the tip of the tongs, being careful not to snip anything else by mistake.

Loss #2.

1) Dr. T was almost in tears as he told me this last story, his best. It was another guy who was "just bored". But when he got to the hospital he refused to tell anyone what it was, just that "it" had been there for several hours. An X-ray showed . . . something round. A CT scan also showed something. Round. I looked at a picture of the scan and could not figure out what the hell it could be. It looked to me like the head of a toilet brush:

Dr. T just laughed harder and had to stop to wipe his eyes. No, not a toilet brush. Not even close.

He took the patient to theatre, and once he was under anaesthesia he was able to feel the object. It felt rough though somehow also smooth and supple. Organic, one could say. He couldn't get his fingers around it, and regular graspers kept slipping off. So he tried a larger grasper and was able to gain purchase on it, but then the thing tore.

Shit.

He grabbed it again and tore it again. And again. Finally after several attempts he managed to spear the object, and was able to extract it in its entirety:
If you're wondering, this wasn't a little clementine or tangerine. No, this was a big orange. A really big orange. According to Dr. T, the only thing that allowed him to remove it was the fact that the patient was "a professional".

And with that, tears streaming down his face, Dr. T defeated me soundly.

But I will have other opportunities.

Until next time, Dr. T. Until next time.

34 comments:

  1. Well that cured that patch of writers bloc for certain. Maybe it's just me but I can't for the life of me see the fascination of rectal insertion.

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  2. Okay, I will admit that I just don't get it. What is the fascination will clogging up one's rectum. Oh, never mind. I really don't want to understand.

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  3. Why, just why.. I have so many questions but my brain is begging me not to ask..
    I love stories between two people, not pissing match competition stories, but sharing stories with colleagues and having them share something just as horrifying if not worse.. Makes you question why people do what they do..
    We do it at work and if one of us has had a rough day we hug it out or just listen, or in your case laugh til someone laugh cries from how hilarious the story is..
    Love it doc, thanks I needed a smile today..

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  4. it's about time you wrote another post. thanks!

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  5. ....how do you stick...an..orange....know what never mind....

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    Replies
    1. The two things I NEVER do are ask "how" or "why".

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  6. You know what...

    I'm not even mad that you were 'gone' for a bit.

    This story was worth it!

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  7. In reviewing medical records for litigation cases, I've come across a few RFO incidents, usually smallish objects such as a nail polish bottle, a vegetable, or a light bulb (!) The oddest one was definitely the large Swingline desktop stapler. That was the day that I stopped being surprised at what people will do to their bodies for whatever reason.

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  8. ah, it's so good to have another dose of stupidity to consider.

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  9. DocB's fascination with RFOs again. It's OK Vito Spatafore, everything will be over soon.

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  10. wonder if anyone has found benton's head, yet. I think that will be the championship winner, there.

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    Replies
    1. Strange you say that, I watch a mortician on YouTube and she had a video about what happened to Benton, now most her later videos have Benton's head pop up in them..

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    2. Link to the channel? I need to get everyone i know to subscribe to it haha

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    3. The channel is called Ask A Mortician (https://www.youtube.com/user/OrderoftheGoodDeath)

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  11. Things would be so much simpler (though undoubtedly more boring for Doc and us) if people could simply keep in mind that the exhaust is an outlet, so please don't put things in there...

    Well worth the wait.

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  12. Welcome back from your hiatus. This post was worth the wait. By the time I got to the end of it, I was laughing so hard I was crying.

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  13. I worked for a colo-rectal surgeon way back when. As part of my orientation, I was given a tour of his RFO collection. I was young. And innocent. My poor poor eyes.

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  14. I have a VFO story to match Dr T's dildo story. 28 yo female presents with CC of vaginal infection. PE: confirmed a nasty infection, and the source - a huge retained dildo - she was horrified, said hubby had used it on her several weeks prior, and she had no idea it was left behind!

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    Replies
    1. I guess that means they had been taking a break since 'cos surely even if she couldn't feel it, he's going to... well some place in Thailand.

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  15. Great to see you back Doc' - and with a classic too!

    Have a Merry (RFO-free) Christmas!

    Ugi

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  16. Yay, welcome back Doc. Any bets if someone stuffing a Christmas cracker up there?
    Merry Christmas to you and yours and to everyone who reads and/or posts here and a wonderful New Year xx

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  17. I am so confused. This particular topic ... it's of widespread (anti-pun unintended) interest?! (See below).

    Ah well. Further proof that my own perception of entertainment contrasts sharply with the norm. I also can identify nothing appealing in country music...or modern jazz. And I regarded Holmes & Watson as a rather amusing film.
    ....

    "It’s here! It’s finally here! Every year it seems like the big day will never come, but it’s here. It’s the day to gather with your family and friends ‘round the hearth, warm beverages and sweet treats at the ready, and have a hearty chortle over the things America stuck inside itself and couldn’t remove without the help of trained medical personnel.

    "All reports are taken from the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission’s database of emergency room visits, all descriptions are verbatim, and none of those things belong in there.

    "As always, objects are sorted by orifice, working south:"

    https://adequateman.deadspin.com/what-did-we-get-stuck-in-our-rectums-last-year-1831046610

    P.S.: On a related note, I happen to be close friends with three different people who were separately forced to visit an emergency room after getting a small object (in one case: a button; another: a popcorn seed; and the third: a thumb tack) separately stuck in their separate nostrils. Actually, maybe I know more than three people with this particular event from their medical history in common and only the three of them ever happened to mention it to me... thus far. Perhaps this would be a fun icebreaker when meeting new people?

    "How's it going? You look familiar. You're friends with Sam, huh? That's cool; she's really nice. Hmmm. So ... tell me: have *you* ever had to see an EMT or doctor after getting something stuck inside one or both of your nostrils?...Oh really? Cool. Which nostril?"

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    1. I didnt get something stuck in my nostril, but i do have a nose story.
      I was eating a spicy lime chili chicken cup of noodle cause i was to lazy to go get some real food when i sneezed.
      Part of the noodle was sticking out my nose, the other part i could feel dangling in the back of my throat.
      I had to *slowly* and very carefully pull it out through my nose.
      It was one of the strangest sensations ive ever felt.thankfully the noodle didnt snap in half while i was pulling it out
      And since it was spicy, my nose burned like hell

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    2. due to an ill timed cough, I have learned chewed carrots don't feel much better.

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    3. I've had ill-timed sneezes turn my nose into a rather unpleasant soda fountain. Also know what chewed cracker feels like when a cough got it up there, and a sneeze sent it out. That one gave me a bloody nose and has since put me off of crackers.

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    4. all of my family has the well honed skill of laughing without spraying.

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    5. Hi Ken, noi matter how many times i read your post about chewed carrots i still laugh.
      It also means i get some real strange looks on the bus or in a local cafe.

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    6. Just one more service we offer.

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  18. I have to say the biggest thing I have ever gotten stuck in a nostril is a sneeze and it eventually came out on its own.

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  19. I know. I feel deprived, too, Ken (although those pent-up sneezes, when finally released, are at least quite satisfying).

    I have been BFF since earliest childhood with the friend who got the popcorn seed stuck up her nose and we were together at the time: in the back of her family's van. I don't remember the incident too well (we were about 6 or 7 at the time) but U do vaguely recall that I intended to follow suit when she picked up that popcorn seed from the van floor and popped it in her right nostril (cuz I've always admired and sought to be like her and just knew she *must* have had a brilliant reason for doing such a thing). Presumably the only reason I didn't stick a seed up my nose is because I couldn't find one before she started crying and screaming when she couldn't extract the seed. It was about then that I considered it might not prove very fun after all...and when we got to the emergency room, I gave up the search for my own popcorn seed all together.

    In all the years since, despite having been called "stuck up" a few times, I have actually never had anything irretrievably stuck up there. *Nor* there... nor even *there.*

    I am boring.

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  20. Your life is SO much more interesting than mine.

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  21. When my eldest, now 50, was thirteen years old he stuck a bean up his nose. Now if he had been five years old this wouldn't be a story, but THIRTEEN?? You're supposed to grow out of this stuff. We had to go to the ER to get it out. I supposed I'm lucky it was only a bean, and that he only stuck it in his nose, not somewhere else.

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