Monday, February 22, 2010

The Thong Expert

I had no idea that I, a small-town, naive, aah-shucks kid, would become a thong expert. For better or worse, though, thanks to my job as an ER physician, that's exactly what I've become. Just don't look for that entry on my resume!

I was attending medical school, in Philadelphia, the first time I walked into a Victoria's Secret. I was with two of my buddies and we were on the hunt for something sexy, something hot, something that would tell our girlfriends that yeah, we might be medical students, but we were hip medical students. Good luck trying to find the nerd in us that Valentine's Day!

I had never been in a Victoria's Secret before but, because my buddies seemed real comfortable about the whole thing, I tailed them through the front door. "The secret," they confided, "is not to touch anything."

I lasted less than five minutes. Okay, I'm lying. It was more like five seconds.

I felt like I should have paid a cover charge, my bobble-head taking in all the life-like mannequins modeling the newest underwear trends. I could have sworn one of them winked at me as I was checking out the intricacies of her lace borders. Easily my lowest point ever on the wishful thinking scale.

Not paying attention to where I was walking, I knocked into a table loaded with skimpy undergarments. Luckily, though, I was able to catch myself and right the table before we both hit the ground. Like a klutz, I tried to straighten a few piles of panties before giving up, realizing that never again would I hold ten thongs in my hands at one time.

My face felt flush. Ebbs of desperate sweat trickled down my back. I took a deep breath and recovered slightly. Keeping it cool, I continued walking down the aisle, pausing here and glancing there, sure that I was looking more and more at home.

My confidence, however, was short-lived. Directly in front of me, approaching, was a pretty girl with a Victoria's Secret pin on her lapel. Brandy, it said. I turned and looked behind me, hoping I wasn't the one in Brandy's line of fire. No such luck.

"Hello, sir, what can I help you with today?"

"Um, well, I um, well--I'm looking for a Valentine's Day gift for my girlfriend," I stammered.

"That's easy enough," Brandy said enthusiastically. "What size is she?"

What size is she? What size is she? WHAT SIZE IS SHE? Shit, I had no idea.

"Um, I think, well, um...I'm not sure," I said, now definitely feeling a little woozy.

Sliding her hands down her hips, Brandy asked innocently, "Is she my size?"

What??? Was this an open invitation to check her out? Did I need a coupon for this?

I passed on Brandy's invitation. "Yeah, well, I think she is," I said, eyes downward, feet pacing side-to-side. "I'm not feeling all that great, though," I mumbled, trying to escape, "so I'm going to go out in the hallway and sit down for a minute. I'll be right back." Yeah, right. Liar.

Thus, my history with Victoria's Secret. Needless to say, Karen (my eventual wife) did not get a VS outfit. I'm good for chocolate and jewelry and wine, but if she wanted a guy to buy her those skimpy outfits, she married the wrong one.

How does this relate to my life in the ER? Well, with as many thongs as I have seen in the ER, sometimes I wish I had been born in a Victoria's Secret. Then I wouldn't be so caught off guard, so queasy, each time I saw one.

Especially on a guy!

Recently, after hearing a trauma alert called for Room 29, I ran into the room to find a very belligerent middle-aged male, quite intoxicated, with multiple contusions and abrasions to his face. A victim of a barroom assault, per the paramedics. He was being both verbally and physically abusive to our staff, aggressively swinging his fists and kicking his legs at several of us. Another drunk tough guy talking big and hitting low.

We were unable to calm him down, despite our best efforts. Not knowing if he had any life-threatening injuries, we chemically sedated and paralyzed him before emergently intubating him, hooking him up to a ventilator. This ensured our safety from his flagrant behavior while we got a more thorough physical exam and ran the appropriate tests, all in a calmer manner.

After stabilizing this gentleman, one of our newly-hired aides began removing this patient's clothes so we could do a fully-exposed physical exam.

Now, picture it. Balding, middle-aged man. Scruffy, ruddy face. Gold-plated incisor. Carhartt jacket. Flannel shirt. Wrangler jeans. Steel-toe boots. All coming off.

The aide cleared his throat. I looked up to find him blushing. "Does this come off, too?"

Everybody stopped what they were doing and our eyes followed his. Oh no! This patient had on one of the skimpiest candy-apple red thongs that any of us had ever seen, frilly-lace included. And although I didn't know what size this patient wore, I would bet the thong was too small, evident by both of his testicles hanging out on either side of its sparse fabric.

I know, fricking gross. That's what I thought, too. I imagined connecting a cable between them so they could catch up with one another. Can you imagine that conversation?

"Hey, Leftie," his right testicle would say, "can you believe this asshole? Packing and suffocating us in this thin, red snatch of flimsy fabric! I'm pissed!"

"Hell, yeah. This better be the last time or I'm outta here. It's nice to breathe again. That damn thing was pressing me right low to the brown hole."

Needless to say, after the appropriate gawking was done, we cut the dainty, delicate undergarment off this patient and placed it in its own clear plastic garment bag to give to his family. The nurse placed it smack on top of his pile of possessions, no less. Accidentally, I'll assume. (Side note here--always be kind to your nurse and never, ever spit at them!)

Based on his wife's expression when the nurse handed over his clothes, this patient had some serious explaining to do. I could only imagine his testicles' flagrant screaming for mercy when she got done with them. At least, to this guy's credit, he didn't have a matching "tramp stamp" tattoo in the small of his back.

Soon after that day, I was at our local mall and passed by Victoria's Secret. Sadly, despite all the skimpily clad mannequins, all I could picture was a near-naked guy in a red thong sitting on a rickety bar stool guzzling Budweisers and slamming back shots of Jim Beam.

And they wonder how we in the medical field get jaded!

As for my wife, well, she'll just keep getting chocolate. And jewelry. And wine. And a pair of Hanes granny panties. Again.

As always, thanks for reading. Next post will be Wednesday, February 24. See you then. Big thanks for all your support and votes in the recent Medgadget Medical Blog Awards!


Jacqueline said...

Oh man...that is so bad.

My fiance just orders me a gift card from VS online. That way, I get what I want and he doesn't ever have to enter the store.

StudentDoc said...

When I worked on the ambulance, we had the saying "never do anything you wouldn't want to explain to the paramedics."

That could easily be changed to "never wear anything you wouldn't want to explain to the ER doc."

"or your wife."

Chrysalis Angel said...

You are hilarious!! Just when I thought it was safe to take a sip my tea, bam, your narration of the boys. ha,ha.

WrightStuff said...

Never a dull moment in your job. Perhaps that is why on the longest running TV shows in the UK is one set in the emergency room - or Casualty, as we call it here! Every episode starts the same, you see some folk going about their daily lives and know that any second some disaster is about to befall them. As they cross the road, you wait for the out of control truck; they walk past the building site and look out for objects falling from scaffolding or they pull on their red lacy thong before a night out down the local bar...
I don't watch it myself. I always preferred ER (more eye candy and less 'accidents waiting to happen')

Katie said...

We took my incredibly naive, female friend to Victoria's Secret for her 20th birthday. She too only lasted 5 seconds.

My cousin in her early twenties accidently left her thong in my grandparents' bathroom. Grandpa found it.
"Ganma, this yers?"
"No, it's Amy's."
"Where's the other half of it?"
"It ain't missin nuttin."
"Maybe I'll wear it on my head. Nope, it don't fit."

No, thank you.

<>< Katie
PS. It takes someone really creative to make testicles talk...

kristi said...

I almost hurt myself when I read the brown hole part! Too funny, yet gross!

Stephany said...

Definitely humiliating for the big red thong wearing guy!

Victoria's Secret has great perfume!

SeaSpray said...

Oh my GOSH! You had me laughing all through this one.

"What??? Was this an open invitation to check her out? Did I need a coupon for this?" (I could really envision this - HILARIOUS!:)

Between your post and WhiteCoat's ..I have images ..all these images in my head. I told WC that my brain will be envisioning the very next doc I see in scrubs wearing a thong and now ..this man.

Now doc in scrubs ..cause scrubs look good on docs ..that's okay and I just hope I don't blush because I will when it goes through my that I have the thong image. However, after this guy ..I need to take my own walk through VS and get pure images back again..untainted by the boys chatting and trying to breathe beyond the constricting red lace panties. Might be too late though ..this is one of those things that gets seared into one's mind.

Funny the way the nurse packed the bag. :)

Jim ..You ..are just so funny!

Thong expert! LOL!

Marie said...

With some of the stuff we see in the ER and the hospital, it always amazes me that we retain any ability to be romantic with our partners. Sometimes those visions will just waft up out of nowhere at THE worst moment and BAM you are either giggling or gagging.

Either one takes some tall explaining. lol

Thanks heaps. Whilst entertaining, this vision will set back my love life for months. lol lol Because unfortunately, I'm mostly a giggler.

coulrophobic agnostic said...

I was always told "always wear clean underwear in case you're in an accident." I still don't really understand that. It would have made better sense if I'd been told to refrain from wearing humiliating underwear when I go out. Just in case. Poor guy.

Mens swimwear said...

There are some crazy mens panties out there!

Cal said...

Thongs, another thing to add to your list of embarrassing things to buy!
I remember Casualty, but did not know it was still on, I loved that program, am glad it is still going.
Chocolates, wine and jewelry must suffice ;)

Maha said...

It's always a nice surprise to see something unexpected :P

I had a patient who came in with standard nausea/vomiting, and he needed some gravol. He was wearing a standard dark green v-neck sweater and black pants. When I asked him to roll up his sleeves so I could give him a shot of gravol, he took out one arm out of the sweater to reveal the most gorgeous and intricately beaded camisole I've seen in a long time. Frankly, I was jealous.

Heather said...

"Never spit at your nurse!"

I think I might get THAT tattooed in the small of my back! ;)

terri c said...

The visual of the too-small thong is too TOO funny!

Anonymous said...

No wonder he got his ass kicked at the bar! (Seriously, what self-respecting man would wear that in public?)

MLee said...

LOL... the things that patients comes in wearing. It really makes you think prior to going out the door.

I do have a question... we are always told to keep a spare pair of undies in the glove box..... Yet, I still haven't figured out how to put them on in case I am in an MVA

Katie said...

I know I already commented today, but that was before class tonight.

Out of nowhere one of my male classmates screamed, "Why does he keep obsessing over the underwear?!" No one heard any of the conversation before or after this but everyone heard his question about underwear. I guess he was reading the crucifixion story in the John and pondering why John repeatedly discusses Jesus' undergarment... Of course, that's not what I thought of when I first heard his shout...

Thanks for adding some internal laughter to my marathon class.
<>< Katie

Mike said...

Testicles talking! that's good reading. Keep it up.

t. said...

I was all good until the part about the testicular separtation from his festive "manties." I actually recoiled in horror!

I'll watch nails being extracted, abscesses being drained, I&Ds, and even gladly withstand a whiff of c. diff as long as I NEVER have to see balls akimbo, looking like some sick S&M version of a Newton's Cradle!

Thanks (or not) for the visual, Doc!

bb said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
bb said...

Mother's admonishment "what if you're in an accident" to her young regarding wearing clean underpants and in good condition (i.e. without holes) takes on a whole new meaning with this dude. Yikes!

bb said...

I do have a question... we are always told to keep a spare pair of undies in the glove box..... Yet, I still haven't figured out how to put them on in case I am in an MVA

I had never heard keeping a spare in the glove box. I can just see it - bleeding, fire department standing there with the jaws of life ready to cut open my vehicle and I yell "WAIT! I need some privacy. I have to change my undies."

Heather said...

"Needless to say, after the appropriate gawking was done..."

that's awesome, right there. just. plain. awesome. if i didn't have one of my kids sleeping right beside me while i read that, i would have been laughing till i cried!!