Mrs Butternut

Today was the dreaded gynae clinic. By far my least favourite afternoon of the week.

Enter Mrs Butternut, a 84 your old lady with Alzheimer's.

Little Miss Medic: How can I help you today Mrs Butternut?

Mrs Butternut: Well, I have this thingy that has been coming out my vagina. And I need some cream for it.

LMM: What exactly has been coming out?

MB: I'm not sure.

LMM: How long has it been there?

MB: 20 years. But it doesn't worry me, I just need some cream as it gets a bit dry.

LMM: OK, well let's take a look and then we can see what needs to be done.

*Mrs Butternut gets undressed behind the curtain. As I remove the sheet to examine her, I see...


Yip! A huge, fucking butternut-sized mass hanging out her vagina *

LMM: Mrs Butternut, you can not possibly have been walking around with that hanging out for 20 years.

MB: I have. It doesn't bother me. Like I said, I just need some cream.

LMM: This is ridiculous, your whole vagina is on the outside of your body. Hence why it is so dry. It honestly looks like a baby trying to come out. You can not go home like this. I'm going to insert a ring pessary, to hold it up.

MB: I don't need all these fancy things, just some cream.

LMM: Cream is not going to do anything. That's like having a one-legged man in an ass kicking competition.

Now if this story scares you, and you want to prevent a vaginal butternut from happening, don't forget your kegels Ladies!!!!


And if all else fails, use some cream!





Just for Laughs


Happy Phuza Thursday!




Males and their sport

The other day one of my BFFs were ranting about our significant others and their attachment to sports matches. I have come home many an afternoon, to find The Boyf watching the same cricket final from 1992, in which mullets and the tightie whites reign supreme. He urges me to watch the second ball from the 22nd over, "the one where we bowl an amazing wicket". When I ask why he keeps watching the same match that he has memorized by heart, he replies with a, "but it's so awesome!"

I know I watch a lot of shit TV, from Keeping up with The Kardashians to Honey Boo Boo, but I don't get the point of watching the same match over and over. On a sport filled Saturday, The Boyf has to watch the rugby match build-up from 2 hours before the match. Then the match, during which time talking is strictly prohibited and compulsory snacks of beer and biltong must be had. Then comes the overweight has-beens of rugby, talking about the match. And if that's not enough then come the highlights and 3 hours later, the same fucking match gets watched! It's soul destroying!

I'd far rather watch this!




XX or XY

Some patients do not quite fully grasp the severity of some situations.

It happens time and time again, but still amazes me.

Little Miss Medic: Mrs Oblivious, we just need to do another ultrasound today, because at the other hospital they thought the baby could have a severe deformity.

Mrs. Oblivious: OK

LMM: It seems that the fetus has multiple defects. It doesn't have any brain tissue, only has one leg and it's heart is beating far too slowly. It seems that the baby will not be able to survive once born.

MO: I understand, but is it a boy or a girl? Because I already have Johnny and am longing for a pigeon pair. So a girl would be perfect.

LMM: As I said. The abnormalities are not compatible with life. I did not check the sex, but regardless, the baby will not survive.

MO: Yes, I understand all that ,but it is a boy or a girl? Because I only have green and yellow and am dying to buy pink or blue.

LMM: I don't think you follow. The baby will not be wearing any clothes. It will die. Demise. Pass on.

MO: But will the baby be OK?





Tea time stories

The other day, whilst a few of us were having a break and drinking some coffee in the tea room, we started off a completely usual conversation for Medics...

Little Miss Medic: What is the funniest thing you have ever seen?

This started off a rapid firing of hilarious stories.

Shy Colleague: Whilst I worked in private I got the most embarrassing phonecall from a gay man, with this high, very gay voice.

Shy Colleague: Hello how can I help you?

Gay Man: I've got a very serious problem you see.

SC: OK, just tell me what is the matter.

GM: Well, I think it would be easier if I just came in and showed you.

SC: Sir, I don't want you to come in unnecessarily, just tell me what the problem is and maybe I can help you over the phone.

GM: Really......um....OK.....I have a dildo stuck up my ass.

SC: Wow, OK.....um.....I think you should come in then.

GM: See I told you!

Gay Man arrives 20 minutes later, with sheepish gay partner in tow. Shy Colleague has meanwhile been going over professional manner in which she will deal with this in her head.

SC: OK Sir, if you could just get undressed, then we can see what we can do about your "situation".

GM: Well I certainly hope you have something that will work.

She lets him get undressed behind the curtain. After a few moments she returns to take a closer look. His ENTIRE anal area is swollen like a turgid, red, water balloon.

SC: Jesus Christ, how long has that thing been in there?

GM: 3 days.

Colleague mumbles HOLY FUCK! to herself.

SC: OK, I am going to try and pull it out.

GM: What the hell do you think we've been doing for the past 3 days? Having a fucking party?

SC: Um...No I suppose not. So what have you tried?

GM: Jimmy here has tried pulling it out. I have tried pulling it out. We've used plumbing pliers, salad servers. We even tried braai tongs.

She realises that the gay men clearly have more experience in this field and that her trying to manually remove it, would be futile. So she decides to phone the surgeon on call, Dr De Kock.

SC: Hi Dr De Kock, sorry to bother you, but I have a surgical case that needs your attention.

Dr De Kock: Alright, what are it? (he was very Afrikaans)

SC: Well it seems I have a patient with a rectal foreign body.

DDK: What kind of FB?

SC: Um.....its a ......dildo.

DDK: A wat?

SC: A dildo. 

DDK: Huh? A Wat?

SC: A sex toy, a vibrator.

DDK: Fok it! Ek's nou daar! (Afrikaans for I'm coming!)

You seriously couldn't even make this shit up.



I'm BACK!!!!!

It has been exactly a year since I last posted something, and god how I have fucking missed it!!!
My friends and family are sick of listening to my self pity, my lengthy diatribes and pretending to laugh at my brilliant replay of events at the hospital. I need an outlet! I need my blog back!

Hopefully I still have a few faithful followers out there, who have not quite abandoned me. I have missed writing so much, and even though I do not know how I will find the time to post something on a regular basis...oh wait!...I do. I could maybe stop watching The Bachelor Pad and Keeping Up With The Kardashians religiously, and there are the few extra hours I would've pissed away.

I'd love to say that my life has miraculously changed in the last year, but it hasn't. Besides adopting an extra cat and buying a new house, everything is exactly the same. Same shit different day.

Please welcome me back with open arms, because I am sitting her grinning from ear to ear at the thought of being back in the blogosphere, and I would hate for my mother to be the only person that reads this!

Lots of love
Little Miss Medic
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