Howdy friends. Got a new Hot Sheets for ya this week. A little levity for you to enjoy on this easy, laid back Sunday morning.
First off, in Portland, Oregon (Motto: Oregon, more than just a cheesy computer game from the 80s) comes the interesting tail of a 71-year old who went into the Curry General Hospital in Gold Beach with abdominal pains only to discovery the actual diagnosis was pregnancy.
The actual hospital paperwork stated “Based on your visit today, we know you are pregnant.”
There are stories like this; rare, but they happen. Like once every ten or so years you hear about a ridiculously old chick who finds out she’s pregnant (speaking of which, I hope to never make it to that age, cause I really don’t want to find 70-year-old women attractive. It’s not adorable, it’s unsettling!) while going to the hospital for gout, or shingles or some such.
The only problem is, this time it wasn’t a 71-year-old women. It was a dude. A grandfather named John Grady Pippen, to be exact.
According to William McMillan, the hospital administrator, it was “an errant keystroke” that caused the wacky mix-up.
Ok, now, we can all enjoy a hearty larf at such zany shenanigans, but that’s because the “errant keystroke” caused nothing more than a minor disturbance. Obviously the guy knew he wasn’t preggers, so it was no big deal.
But, what’s worse are the stories where some dude goes into the hospital to get his tonsils out (do they still do that anymore?) and ends up getting his frank and beans chopped off because the doctor had the wrong paperwork. That shit is scary! And it happens a lot more than we know! I watch Scrubs, I know that hospital administrators bury mistakes and silence witnesses. Just like that one episode where J.D. and Turk went to the home of that botched surgery patient and killed and dismembered him so he couldn’t sue. It was a heart-warming episode.
That’s why I do all my own surgeries at home. It’s cheaper and I rarely make mistakes.
Toes grow back, right?
***
The next story is all the way from a little place called Fort Pierce, Florida. The home of cokehead alligators and the country’s stupidest voters (I say you guys should vote for Bush again. Let’s see what happens!)
Just a little word of warning if you’re ever in St. Lucie County: Don’t get into a car accident on I-95 and have your foot severed!
Besides the obvious reasons of doing your best to not get your foot lopped off, there’s another reason. Those damn sticky fingered firefighters might steal it!
On September 18th, there was a car accident where a guy’s foot was sheared off, (he probably let his wife drive and she was distracted by texting, or something). He went to the hospital for treatment (and when I say he went, I’m sure he was taken there by an ambulance and didn’t walk).
According to the fire department’s policy, they’re supposed to take severed body parts to the hospital with the victim. Well, it looks like this foot didn’t make it to the hospital until September 24th! I did the math, that’s six whole days later. I’d like to imagine the conversation when they discovered the foot was missing.
Victim: Honey? Have you seen my foot anywhere around? The doctor is asking for it.
Vitcim’s wife: Your foot?
Victim: Yeah, you know…the thing I walk on…S’got five toes…was cut off in that horrible car accident we were just in?
Victim’s wife: No dear, I haven’t seen it. Who had it last?
Victim: The last person I saw it with was that creepy-looking fireman who was fondling it, drooling and muttering to himself.
Victim’s wife: Uh-oh.
Man, I’ve heard of some freaky fetishes in my life, (I particularly enjoyed the Hot Sheets I did where the dude cut a whole in some chick’s couch and crawled inside) but I have never heard of a severed appendage fetish. And why a foot? Did he have a heavy door that he wanted to prop open? Perhaps some severed foot fetish magazines he didn’t want blown about his windy apartment? I can’t even imagine.
So there you go. What have we learned today kiddies? If you’re an old dude, don’t get pregnant, it won’t end well. And if you get a body part lopped off in a devastating car accident be sure to put it in your pocket, or at least get a receipt.
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