Re: Toilet Humour

November 14, 2005

Great! Ha ha! That was fun, Kishore!

:-D

Ravin '82

November 14, 2005

Hilarious, and very true, Kishoreda.

I have never ceased to wonder why people are so generous with the quantity of

stool for lab investigations ( when they manage to collect it, of course!)

Prabha'84

Shah wrote:

TOILET HUMOUR

Time and time again, it was drilled into our heads that one of the most

important and easiest investigations, far superseding blood and urine

exams, is the examination of stools. This is especially true for alimentary

afflictions. However, I would beg to differ. Stool examination may or may

not be the most important, but it is definitely the most complicated.

In fact the complications start from the name itself. Now why would anyone

want to call it 'stools'? Maybe, the person who named it was not a doctor,

but a carpenter- and not an ordinary carpenter, at that. He must have been a

carpenter who had tremendous difficulty with the making of those strange

three legged objects called stools. Geometry says that three points define a

plane. However, a three-legged stool always wobbles. Maybe stools were not

taught Geometry in their school. In a fit of pique, the angry carpenter must

have cursed the stools with the dirtiest name he could think of, and so, in

a reverse retribution of sorts, they came to be known as stools.

I personally do not know anyone who needs stools to use the toilet (I mean

the wooden ones). Why not call it a chair? So when you say, " That chap is a

perfect 'chair' man. " You know what you are talking about. In fact, most

chairmen are like that! Chair would have been apt. Or even calling it a

table would have been okay, as in " Where are your 'table' manners? " I know a

few with manners like that too.

The next complication comes when you ask the patient to collect the sample.

In my student days, we were allotted a few families from a village, and we

were supposed to investigate each member thoroughly. Stool examination was

supposed to be the easiest (I won't use the term 'piece of cake' in

deference to sensitive readers).

When I started my instructions with an innocuous, " When you go to the toilet

.... " the first question each villager asked me was " What is a toilet? " India

being an agriculture-based economy, its fertilizers are also cottage

industries done outside cottages. I quickly rephrased my instructions to,

" When you go to the fields ... "

The second problem occurred with the collecting bottles. These were the

cleaned recycled vials of injections. We literally hit a bottleneck here.

Pushing a piece of, well, matter (let us call it matter and let the matter

rest) past the neck was a Herculean job. You could almost compare it with a

straining constipated man. Fortunately, a local ice cream manufacturer

helped us with a free gift of empty ice cream cups and wooden spoons.

(Unfortunately seeing all those loaded ice cream cups, put me off ice cream

for years.)

It was a heart-warming sight on the first day, with me bidding adieu to my

patients with ice cream cups forced into their hands. Never in history were

ice cream cups so readily proffered and so reluctantly accepted. I carefully

instructed them to use the wooden spoons or even match sticks to collect the

precious samples.

The next day was D-day. That day the 'matter' really hit the fan! My very

first patient came beaming and pompously handed over the ice cream cup. Then

he stood with his arms proudly folded like a schoolboy who has just

submitted his award-winning essay. I 'looked into the matter'. Rolling in

the cup were a few blackberries.

I was nonplussed. " What is this? "

" You told me to collect waste matter from the field. "

" I didn't ask for berries. "

" These are not berries. This is waste matter. "

I mentally went through a list of exotic diseases, but no known disease

causes berry like stools.

Seeing my perplexed expression, he clarified, " This is from my goat. We go

in the fields together. "

I am sure the pathology department would have had a 'field' day holding

clinical discussions on this unusual specimen. I instructed the man again,

telling him the basic difference between a doctor and a veterinary.

The second young lady, all of 10 years old, came shyly and giggled. I asked

her soothingly, " Where is the sample I told you to get, my dear girl? "

The girl giggled once more and said, " Doctor Uncle, you told me to collect

my chi-chi in the cup. So I placed it behind. And when I got up there was

only this chi-chi and the cup had disappeared. "

Her eyes were wide as if she had just witnessed a great magic trick.

The next guy had brought huge plastic bags bulging with material. Instead of

Ice cream cups, the man had deemed fit to get huge family packs. I silently

thanked God that there were no dripping ice cream cones. The concept of

'sample' needed to be clarified.

Suddenly there was a lot of screaming and a frantic boy stumbled in and lay

prostate before me screaming with agony. I quickly asked him what was the

matter. He shouted at me, " Because of you, I burnt my bottom. "

I was mystified. Then it dawned on me. " You used a match-stick to collect

the sample? A burning one? "

One smiling lady came back with neatly labelled samples. I smiled at her and

commended her on her efficient work. She smiled modestly and said, " Oh! It

was nothing, doc. My infant son had a bout of loose motions in the morning,

so I collected some in each of these cups. "

But my favourite family is the one that came with a single cup containing

samples from all family members - a sort of group photograph. What will they

think of next? A family X-ray album?

Fed up with these practical difficulties, my colleague 'filled up' for all

his patients. Imagine his chagrin, when all the samples showed up with

amoebic infestation. His set of patients were always remembered by our

teachers as a classic example of how easily and fast the amoeba spreads from

person to person. My colleague always managed to simper with humility at

every mention of his name.

A few days ago, a Gujrathi patient of mine managed to shock me with her

peculiar accent. She wanted me to 'taste' her stools.

My present day practice does not lend itself easily to stool collection. A

large percentage of my patients now use the western toilet. Collecting a

sample from this high perch involves great acrobatic feats. A person could

land in an orthopaedic ward for trying to collect a stool sample. Whenever I

manage to get a good stool sample, I am so happy, that you could almost say

that I get 'flushed' with success! I have appointed a separate counsellor

now, who explains how exactly to go about this difficult task. And, yes, he

sits on a stool!

Kishore Shah 1974

------------------------------

Website: www.mgims.org

------------------------------

November 14, 2005

Good one!!!

Malini

With regards

L/M Prasad

(lp1960@...)

Wish a very happy and cheerful day keep smiling

> Toilet Humour

>

> TOILET HUMOUR

>

> Time and time again, it was drilled into our heads that one

> of the most

> important and easiest investigations, far superseding blood

> and urine

> exams, is the examination of stools. This is especially true

> for alimentary

> afflictions. However, I would beg to differ. Stool

> examination may or may

> not be the most important, but it is definitely the most complicated.

>

> In fact the complications start from the name itself. Now why

> would anyone

> want to call it 'stools'? Maybe, the person who named it was

> not a doctor,

> but a carpenter- and not an ordinary carpenter, at that. He

> must have been a

> carpenter who had tremendous difficulty with the making of

> those strange

> three legged objects called stools. Geometry says that three

> points define a

> plane. However, a three-legged stool always wobbles. Maybe

> stools were not

> taught Geometry in their school. In a fit of pique, the angry

> carpenter must

> have cursed the stools with the dirtiest name he could think

> of, and so, in

> a reverse retribution of sorts, they came to be known as stools.

>

> I personally do not know anyone who needs stools to use the

> toilet (I mean

> the wooden ones). Why not call it a chair? So when you say,

> " That chap is a

> perfect 'chair' man. " You know what you are talking about. In

> fact, most

> chairmen are like that! Chair would have been apt. Or even

> calling it a

> table would have been okay, as in " Where are your 'table'

> manners? " I know a

> few with manners like that too.

>

> The next complication comes when you ask the patient to

> collect the sample.

> In my student days, we were allotted a few families from a

> village, and we

> were supposed to investigate each member thoroughly. Stool

> examination was

> supposed to be the easiest (I won't use the term 'piece of cake' in

> deference to sensitive readers).

>

> When I started my instructions with an innocuous, " When you

> go to the toilet

> ... " the first question each villager asked me was " What is a

> toilet? " India

> being an agriculture-based economy, its fertilizers are also cottage

> industries done outside cottages. I quickly rephrased my

> instructions to,

> " When you go to the fields ... "

>

> The second problem occurred with the collecting bottles.

> These were the

> cleaned recycled vials of injections. We literally hit a

> bottleneck here.

> Pushing a piece of, well, matter (let us call it matter and

> let the matter

> rest) past the neck was a Herculean job. You could almost

> compare it with a

> straining constipated man. Fortunately, a local ice cream

> manufacturer

> helped us with a free gift of empty ice cream cups and wooden spoons.

> (Unfortunately seeing all those loaded ice cream cups, put me

> off ice cream

> for years.)

>

> It was a heart-warming sight on the first day, with me

> bidding adieu to my

> patients with ice cream cups forced into their hands. Never

> in history were

> ice cream cups so readily proffered and so reluctantly

> accepted. I carefully

> instructed them to use the wooden spoons or even match sticks

> to collect the

> precious samples.

>

> The next day was D-day. That day the 'matter' really hit the

> fan! My very

> first patient came beaming and pompously handed over the ice

> cream cup. Then

> he stood with his arms proudly folded like a schoolboy who has just

> submitted his award-winning essay. I 'looked into the

> matter'. Rolling in

> the cup were a few blackberries.

>

> I was nonplussed. " What is this? "

>

> " You told me to collect waste matter from the field. "

>

> " I didn't ask for berries. "

>

> " These are not berries. This is waste matter. "

>

> I mentally went through a list of exotic diseases, but no

> known disease

> causes berry like stools.

>

> Seeing my perplexed expression, he clarified, " This is from

> my goat. We go

> in the fields together. "

>

> I am sure the pathology department would have had a 'field'

> day holding

> clinical discussions on this unusual specimen. I instructed

> the man again,

> telling him the basic difference between a doctor and a veterinary.

>

> The second young lady, all of 10 years old, came shyly and

> giggled. I asked

> her soothingly, " Where is the sample I told you to get, my dear girl? "

>

> The girl giggled once more and said, " Doctor Uncle, you told

> me to collect

> my chi-chi in the cup. So I placed it behind. And when I got

> up there was

> only this chi-chi and the cup had disappeared. "

>

> Her eyes were wide as if she had just witnessed a great magic trick.

>

> The next guy had brought huge plastic bags bulging with

> material. Instead of

> Ice cream cups, the man had deemed fit to get huge family

> packs. I silently

> thanked God that there were no dripping ice cream cones. The

> concept of

> 'sample' needed to be clarified.

>

> Suddenly there was a lot of screaming and a frantic boy

> stumbled in and lay

> prostate before me screaming with agony. I quickly asked him

> what was the

> matter. He shouted at me, " Because of you, I burnt my bottom. "

>

> I was mystified. Then it dawned on me. " You used a

> match-stick to collect

> the sample? A burning one? "

>

> One smiling lady came back with neatly labelled samples. I

> smiled at her and

> commended her on her efficient work. She smiled modestly and

> said, " Oh! It

> was nothing, doc. My infant son had a bout of loose motions

> in the morning,

> so I collected some in each of these cups. "

>

> But my favourite family is the one that came with a single

> cup containing

> samples from all family members - a sort of group photograph.

> What will they

> think of next? A family X-ray album?

>

> Fed up with these practical difficulties, my colleague

> 'filled up' for all

> his patients. Imagine his chagrin, when all the samples

> showed up with

> amoebic infestation. His set of patients were always

> remembered by our

> teachers as a classic example of how easily and fast the

> amoeba spreads from

> person to person. My colleague always managed to simper with

> humility at

> every mention of his name.

>

> A few days ago, a Gujrathi patient of mine managed to shock

> me with her

> peculiar accent. She wanted me to 'taste' her stools.

>

> My present day practice does not lend itself easily to stool

> collection. A

> large percentage of my patients now use the western toilet.

> Collecting a

> sample from this high perch involves great acrobatic feats. A

> person could

> land in an orthopaedic ward for trying to collect a stool

> sample. Whenever I

> manage to get a good stool sample, I am so happy, that you

> could almost say

> that I get 'flushed' with success! I have appointed a

> separate counsellor

> now, who explains how exactly to go about this difficult

> task. And, yes, he

> sits on a stool!

>

> Kishore Shah 1974

>

November 14, 2005

Kishore Sir:

Two events that I recollect from my experineces in Sewagram, one in our

adopted village and one @ Gynae ward at MGIMS:

1) This one is kinda similar to kishore sir's story. The first experience

was in our " gaon " when I had to pursue my adopted families to collect their

stools in a bottle and give them to me, so that I could deposit them for the

labs to examine. Thankfully, this time around, I mean in 1993, we had become

more modern, and so, we were supplied the small bottles to collect the stool

samples... they were not even " bottles " ... they were actually the glass

" bulbs " in which we collect the blood samples of patients in the wards.....

ok.. anyways... now, " gala faad faad ke " I gave a lecture to all my families

as to " how should you collect the stool sample " ...... I told them the

" stick " method, as to how after they have done thier " thing " , they can take

a small twig or " zhadoo " ki stick and take the stuff, put it in the bottle

and close the cap. While I was lecturing, everybody was nodding ...... I was

happy... I was like, " OK..... kal kaam ho jayega " and I had a good night's

sleep... and I knew that I will not be harassed by the PSM PG's about

" sample kahan hai... and sample kyon nahin mila " ... (Right Anchita?)

Next morning, I went to my families and told them.... ok.... bottles nikalo

and give them to me......everybody had their bottle except an old

babaji..... ok... here is the transcript of the conversation between me (AC)

and the " babaji " (BB), which is transalted from the original marathi to

" hing-lish "

AC: Babaji, bottle kahan hai?

BB: Doctor saab, bottle jungle mein hai....

AC: bottle jungle mein kya kar rahi hai (I was curious )

BB: subah leke gaya tha

(now I am more curious)

AC: to usme aapne collect kyon nahin kiya?

BB: problem hua

AC: subah aapko bumber 2 hui nahin?

BB: nahin, ho gaya

(now I am more and more curious)

AC: to, aapka pet kharab hai?

BB:, nahin, normal hai

(now my curiosity about why he has not broght the sample in the bottle has

no bounds)

AC: (cant suppress my eagerness): To bottle jungle mein kyon hai?

BB: (very innocently) : Kya karen doctor saab, aapne jaise batay waise maine

kiya

AC: ( now very curious and excited): to phir bottle kahan hai?

BB: (more innnocently) mein bottle jungle mein leke gaya, aur number 2 karne

ke liye mein bottle pe baitha

aur phir number 2 hone ke baad mujhe bottle nahin mili........ !!!!!!

...............................I cant type anymore after this..... I was

embarassed, amused and irritated at the fact that the " precious " sample that

was going to bail me out of an " interrogation " was lying there in the jungle

buried deep in a pile of " manure " ...!!!!!

2) this was a more " domestic " experience in gyne ward.....this reminds me

of some funny names that are given to " fecal " matter and mostly used out of

context. There was a gyne resident during the time I was an intern. She was

a great PG and was good at her work and also she was very " anglicized " in

her hindi.....during her rounds, she was explaing to a patient ( " baai " as

they are called in gynae wards " ) the need to collect her urine sample for

examination. She gave the baai a bottle to collect her urine in and told

her......

" baai, is bottle mein tumhari bathroom ki jaanch karni hai, so is bottle

mein apna bathroom bharke lao " .......the use of the word " bathroom " amused

all the interns on the rounds (interns have nothing to do other than laugh,

giggle and pass comments) while a puzzled bai kept on looking at us and

finally asked...... " isme mein kya leke aa jaun? "

ok..... enough of the " toilet humour " from my side...... now back to being

a " good boy "

cheers

Ameet 1993

November 14, 2005

In our batch, there was a girl from Delhi who had difficulty in speaking even

plain Hindi, she had to add some English words. One day in the ward she was

enquiring from a patient- Susu tapasini thala kya? ( Have u got your urine

tested?)

Tejinder- 1976

________________________________

From: mgims on behalf of Prabha Desikan

Sent: Mon 11/14/2005 12:20 PM

To: mgims

Subject: Re: Toilet Humour