Bottoms Up

It was an early Monday morning, around three or so, when a man came into the air base’s emergency room, doubled over in pain. I was working the intake desk as well as assisting in medical situations when needed.

“I am so badly constipated, I can’t stand up,” he complained.

As I scribbled down his name, rank and other particulars, I asked, “How long’s this been going on?”

“Since early Saturday morning,” he grunted.

Immediately, I moved him into bay number one. There was no else in the ER admission area other than me, so I had to leave him and go back to the desk to call for the other on-duty medical technician and the lead nurse.

Within a couple of minutes, the pair arrived and proceeded to check the patient. Then one of them asked me, “Will you run him down to x-ray and set him up with some film?”

Swiftly, I rolled him down the hall to x-ray and handed him off to a technician with instructions and returned to my desk. A while later, the x-ray tech returned with the patient and handed me a large envelope that held the patient’s films.

“Weird,” is all he said as he turned down the hallway.

By this time I could tell there was something strange going on as the doctor, the nurse and the med-tech were talking in hushed tones while looking at the patient’s butt, which they’d positioned in the air, pillows tucked under his hips and stomach.

“Hey,” the doctor asked, “Bring me those x-rays, would’ya?”

In a matter of seconds he was looking at them. That’s when he exclaimed lowly, “What the fuck is that?”

Both the med-tech and nurse shrugged. However, I instantly knew what it was and without saying anything, sprinted down the hallway to x-ray to quickly check the machines. Neither the x-ray tech nor myself found anything out-of-order and I raced back to the ER.

“Uh, Doc, I checked both the x-ray machines and they’re clear,” I said before adding, “That’s a Michelob bottle.”

By this time, they knew it was bottle and that it was dangerously lodged deep inside his rectum. I realized that knowing the type of bottle was of no help to him or the patient, so I headed back to my desk.

About four minutes later, the patient screamed in agony. The doctor was trying to remove the bottle but the thing refused to budge.

“It must’ve sucked in a part of his bowel,” the doctor said, “But I’ll be damned if I know how we’ll get it loose without surgery.”

The doctor looked at me and directed, “Call the OR and see how fast they can get a suite prepped.”

Without saying anything, I picked up the phone and dialed. After arranging an operating room, I let the doctor know.

“Good,” he said.

Then, as if it were an after-thought, he turned back to me and asked, “You got any ideas about how we can extract that thing without major surgery?”

Shaking my head ‘yes,’ I answered with a question, “How about drilling a couple of holes in the bottle?”

It was as if a beam of sunlight struck the doctor as his face lit up, exclaiming, “A dentist’s drill!”

Within minutes, there was a mobile drilling unit being set up in the bay. Shortly afterwards came the irritating squeal of the drill bit being pressed into the brown glass.

There was an audible sound of air being released as the doctor drilled a second hole into the bottle, followed by a horrendously awful smell. Then, without much warning, the bottle became a missile, launching across the room, blasting a hole into the drywall.

A minute or so later, the patient was on his way to the operating ward. As he disappeared around the corner and because this wasn’t an ordinary situation and required some investigating, the doctor ordered me to call the Air Police.

The following week, after reporting for duty, with the same doctor, nurse and medical technician, I asked, “So what became of the guy with the bottle up his ass?”

The doctor looked around and then motioned us to move closer as he explained, “I’m told he admitted to doping two women and having sex with them. The two women in turn, doped him and in revenge for what he did to them, they shoved the bottle up his ass.”

We all quietly chuckled, but it was no laughing matter; the Air Force eventually kicked all three out of the service.