Punintended Joy

Call me S-ilvertongue. I finagled my way out of being in the drunk tank for 8 hours out of the 12 I was working tonight. Thank goodness, because we had the rowdiest, most foul-mouthed, foul-spirited, putrid drunk patients ever, evidenced by the fact that all 4 of them were put indefinitely into 4-point restraints and some had spit-masks. On top of that, we were completely inundated with patients. So in the spirit of recuperating from the night's trials and tribulations, I will tell you a story with a happy ending.

I had a half-hour conversation with a nice old man. It was only when he told me that I realized he was totally and completely deaf. One could never tell because his elocution was perfect and he told a lot of punny jokes.

How do you transport blood to Europe? Through blood vessels. Where is it taken? To the Red Sea.

I got hit with a fish as a child. That's why I have a herring problem.

He was hilarious. His stories looped round and around- and I must admit, I dearly love a silly pun. I got a notepad and a pen for him. This was my lame joke that I told him:
What's the most dangerous vegetable to have on a boat?

A leek.

He loved it. "You really love doing what you do, don't you? I can tell." Yes, sir, I do.

"Through all my years of (extensive and very serious) health problems, I have come to find that humor really is the best medicine."

Oh, delightful LOM, I totally agree.

He was discharged with no complications. :-) It's nice to see that humor really does keep him going.

S