Many of you will spend your mature years in an oversized nappy, sat in warm faecal matter for hours until a brutal nurse finally flips you over with no ceremony or cooing and clinically wipes you clean. It’s an infantilist’s wet dream. Read more »
Posts Tagged ‘Bollocks to The Hippocratic Oath’
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: Don’t get sick this week
Don’t go into hospital this Wednesday. In fact, avoid all doctors for the next week. Unless you’re choking on your own mangled innards and seeing that white light, you’re better off at home. Wednesday 5 August is changeover day, when all medical students are let loose into hospitals as fully fledged doctors, despite being considered unqualified just 24 hours previously. Their plastic dummies are replaced by your flesh and blood. You are their lab rats and your death is their forgivable first-day blunder. Read more »
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: Doctors can’t help you
You think doctors know what they’re doing? Well, it’s a myth. A lot of the time I have no idea what is wrong with my patient. The higher I progress in the medical profession, the more I realise that half of being a doctor is saying things with authority and hoping my patient doesn’t die – which most of the time works. The ones that do die would probably have died no matter what I did. Read more »
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: I made a baby
I always regale you with stories of death, disease, sexual perversity and self-destruction, which is pretty much what I deal with on a day-to-day basis in A&E. But sometimes there is a fleeting reprieve in the otherwise grim monotony of bodily failure. Last week I delivered my first baby, which, to be fair, was just as gruesome, and proved humanity to be just as pitiless. Read more »
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: One-night stand syndrome
You know that feeling when you have drunk so much you wake up and the pain is only matched by your nauseating shame, then you realise there’s a warm naked body beside you and you have no idea who it is? When you can feel their arse hair rubbing against your naked thighs, and yet as far as you know you’re not even on first-name terms with the stranger? Well, that is what it’s like for this man every morning, and not because he’s a player.
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Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: Cheating the rectal examiner
I stick my finger up someone’s bum as much as three times a day. It doesn’t get any better with time, it’s always someone else’s shit on my finger. With any problem below the lungs, it seems necessary to insert a gloved digit up the anal passage and have a poke around. Read more »
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath - Fat chance
There comes a point in life when you realise that it’s time to diet. When you require medical equipment designed for elephants you’ve reached that stage. I once had to phone a zoological veterinary surgery to see if they had an MRI big enough for my 32-stone patient. They said no. Apparently both the legality and plausibility of hospital/zoo equipment-trading is a myth propagated by Scrubs and spread amongst doctors exasperated at how to penetrate layers of custardised junk-food. Anyway, they turned my 32-stoner away from the zoo. That’s tragic. Read more »
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: What I know about death
I haven’t cried for a patient in over five years. I worry I’ve become a cold-hearted bitch who makes small children scream, jabs old ladies with needles, and remains unfazed in the face of relentless suffering. Read more »
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: Cock-stuffing
In my experience, people will get weird shit lodged in every available orifice – and the urethra is no exception. Now, I don’t have a penis so perhaps it’s hard for me to understand, but the only time anyone has put anything up my urethra was during an STD screening and I was moments away from kicking the doctor in the head. Painful, humiliating, and categorically not erotic. But apparently this is exactly what gets some people off, though they normally regret it after. Read more »
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: The perfect pussy
While working as a GP I had a patient who would not stop complaining about her flaps – vaginal flaps that is, or labia minora to be precise. Miss Vagina Whiner first came to me saying she had lost all pleasure from sexual intercourse because she was so embarrassed by her saggy lips, which drooped about her clitoris like the slobbery chops of an over-bred dog. I found it curious she had shaved prior to her appointment, and wondered if this was to highlight the outlandish size of her flaps. Read more »
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: The Dead Won’t Rise Again
Summer’s coming so I’ll warn you now; try not to get seriously injured or ill in August. August is the month the medical students are released into the hospital as fully-fledged doctors. And to make matters worse, their first job is often on the crash team. In other words, they are your last bastions of hope, your final hand-hold on this mortal coil if you have the misfortune of going into cardiac arrest. If I were you I would just stay dead. I would want to be resuscitated about as much as I would want someone to mutilate my dead body. Read more »
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: Hearing voices
I was having a moment of self-loathing on the tube yesterday as I recalled a particularly drunken misadventure and without meaning to I groaned and hit myself in the head a few times with my book, saying: “Idiot, idiot, idiot.” Everyone on the tube turned and starred. I realised that must be what it’s like to be mad. The voice in your head becomes so overwhelming that it requires action.
Bollocks to the Hippocratic Oath: Mutant cock report
You would think having two penises would make a man into walking double-ended sex goliath, a master of simultaneous ejaculation and duel penetration. But alas, apart from having the very cool party trick of being able to pee out of both – there is no joy in suffering from what is medically known as diphallia or penile duplication.
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