... but you're skipping the hard part -- how did he get to the hospital? He certainly couldn't sit down -- so no car or taxi. It's not the sort of thing you call an ambulance over (you get stuck with the bill if your insurance judges the situation not to be ambulance-worthy). So, he found the baggiest pants he owned and walked/limped miles to the hospital, presumably contemplating all of his life mistakes with each painful step. It's the kind of thing he'll probably leave out of his biography if he should ever run for office.
It's always males who have the anal-insertion disasters, by the way. Ladies, you're welcome to prove me wrong, but please don't, actually. I see way too much of that with just the one gender.
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Here's one of my personal favorite stories from my time in the ER: A couple was seen by their family practice doctor earlier in the day for the wife's constipation. The doctor gave her two boxes containing enemas. For those fortunate enough to not have used these, each box contains enema fluid in a bottle with an uncomfortably long spout. This poor, hopefully illiterate woman took one look at that spout and knew exactly what it was for: drinking.
But that's not why she came to the ER. No, she only saw us because she hadn't wanted to drink the second bottle and wanted to see if she could get by with just the one.
I asked the husband: "Did these come in a box?"
"Are there any instructions, say, with pictures, on the side of the box?"
Long pause. Then:
"So is it a problem if she drank the enemas?"
Professionalism. I didn't crack. In fact, because I'm a good doctor, I called poison control, and because I'm a better human being, I immediately muted the phone to hide the peals of laughter ringing on the other end. But hey, laugh all you want -- the enema still worked. But the woman suffered horrible, horrible abdominal cramps. In this case (in this ONE case), anal insertion is preferable.