LADY SHATTERLEY

PondsLadyPotty

NO SHIT SHERLOCK”

This is the sign I’ve decided to needlepoint for the door to the restroom of our dental practice where I toil my life away. While we do have killer water views, we are extremely space challenged and patients and staff must share the same bathroom, which I’m sure must thrill Dr. Lymp Biskit, my germaphobic employer.

Last week an elderly patient disappeared in said bathroom for a suspiciously long time. When she finally emerged after thirty minutes, she made an odd comment to the front desk receptionist, “Going to the bathroom at my age can be hard.”

My translation of that cryptic remark was, “When you get older you have to pee a lot more often, which is tough.” Several minutes later, when one of our unsuspecting dental assistants innocently wandered in there, then immediately emerged gagging and retching, I realized my translation skills for ELDER SPEAK were nil. Does Rosetta Stone sell a language tutorial entitled Geriatric?

Moments later the hapless assistant re-entered the scene of the intestinal crime, dressed head to toe in a hazmat suit, hazmatwhere she proceeded to clean up the explosive diarrhea left behind by this patient, who was dripping diamonds from at least seven fingers. Now I was beginning to understand her comments about going to the bathroom being “hard”.

HARD…as in it’s hard for me to see the splattered poopage decorating the walls and floor of the bathroom due to my recent cataract surgery.

HARD…as in it’s hard to flush that toilet handle whilst being weighted down by all these carats on my wizened hands.

HARD…as in it’s difficult to smell the olfactory mayhem I left behind since my most recent rhinoplasty.

The best fun was still to come. When the patient was finally seated in an operatory, having her cavities filled, she was once again overcome by yet another round of gastrointestinal mischief. All eleven of us were now running around opening doors for fresh air, spraying gallons of Lysol, and profusely apologizing to our other trapped patients. I had a gleeful moment imagining Dr. Lymp Biskit being forced to sit through this while he was filling her cavities.

In my twenty years of working in dental practices it has always been an unwritten rule that “Whosoever shall discover it…must also deal with it”. Whether it be geriatric poopage, diapers, drug paraphernalia, bodily fluids of various types, shrimp a patient wanted to barter, or even that baby goat. You stumble upon it, you inherit it.

So, in between rounds of gut-busting laughter the rest of that afternoon, I did remember to look heavenward several times and offer up a wee prayer of gratitude to Allah, Trigger, and Rin Tin Tin, that I wasn’t the poor SOB who stumbled upon that carnage.

dog who pooped

Feature image courtesy of http://www.antiquebottles.co

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