Many, many years ago I was good friends with this girl Jesse (obvs pseudonym).
She had a host of medical issues and we frequented the ER, because Jesse didn’t have insurance.
The first time was for peeing blood from a really nasty kidney infection.
The second time, the bleeding was elsewhere.
I got the call from a mutual guy friend, pseudonym Nick, that Jesse needed some moral support at the ER.
So, I went.
Not much was explained on why Jesse was back in the ER.
We checked in and finally, after waiting about an hour with frequent trips to the ladies’ room from Jesse, we make it to the triage nurse.
She does all the vital checking.
“So, Jesse, what brings you in today?”
“I’m bleeding,” says Jesse.
“From where?” asks the nurse.
“Out my ass.”
I’m dying trying to contain my laugh. My gut tightens and I am just struggling not to let out some obnoxious laughter.
“Was it trauma?” the triage nurse asks.
“No! I don’t do anal or anything!”
I’m about to die. I look at Nick and I can tell he’s in the same predicament.
So, they put us in this room and tell Jesse to strip down and put on one of the dreaded gowns. It was cold in the hospital, so I gave her my sweater and Nick gave her his jacket.
The nurse checks on us a few times, until the doctor walks in.
This dude had to be like 6’5″, and just burly. Doesn’t help that he’s wearing grim reaper black scrubs.
He asks Nick and I to step out of the room, look at each other and start snickering.
I mean, we both legitimately felt terrible for Jesse, but I just about died after “out my ass.”
We are ushered back into the room. Jesse’s curled up in the fetal position with Nick’s jacket and my sweater.
“So, you feel a bit violated?” Nick asks.
Then we left and went to Denny’s for pancakes.
Turns out it was a fissure.