The six and a half hour wait in the emergency room reception area has been hell. The discomfort is almost too much to bear. "When the hell am I going to been seen," I mutter to myself. "The pain is too much."
I look over at the ice machine generously provided to the people in the waiting room and wonder how I could inconspicuously jam a handful of ice down the front of my pants to aid me with the burn. A disheveled and apparently disgruntled nurse encased in glass points in my direction and oh so pleasantly grunts, "Hey pretty boy, you're up to bat." I look to the right and left of me and determine she must be grunting at me because I am the only pretty boy I can see. It's finally my turn.
Caution: Not for use on sensitive penises.As I pass the desk I notice the disgruntled nurse has a moustache that I would be proud to grow. I make a witty remark to complement her magnificent accomplishment. I do not receive a thank you; unless the middle finger extended in my direction is a sign of gratitude and someone forgot to inform me. I limp toward the open door and follow the directions of the staff to the stall where I wait for the doctor. What the hell am I going to say when the doctor arrives? Pure panic consumes my entire being. I sure as hell can't tell him the truth.
The curtain opens and in walks a doctor. A female doctor. Typically, I could care less about the gender of any doctor, but considering the circumstances that have brought me to the emergency department, I think I would have an easier time selling my bullshit to a man. I don't know much about women, but one thing I do know is that women possess an innate ability to recognize bullshit. Somehow they seem to know that if it looks like bullshit and it smells like bullshit, then it must be bullshit. Sweat pours down my forehead. I can't breathe. The walls close in on me. Sitting in one of the most uncomfortable wooden chairs ever created, I pray for death.
Before I can grab a breath to ease my suffering, the room fills with health care professionals staring intently at my smothered cock. "So what seems to be the problem?" asks the doctor in a very caring tone of voice.
All I can do is stare at the floor and mumble "Hmunh!"
The doctor rephrases her question. "What brings you to the emergency room?"
Staring at the floor I come to the realization that I must come clean. I slowly rise to my feet and drop my cargo pants to my ankles. The doctor makes eye contact with me before she looks down. The silence is deafening.
It is evident that she is using everything in her power not to laugh, but the overpowering urge is too much for her to bear. With a pitiful attempt to mask her laughter, the doctor asks, "Sir is that a vacuum nozzle attached to your penis?"
Before I answer her dumbass question I think to myself, Where the hell did you go to medical school? "Yes. Yes it is. It's a Super Suction 2000 vacuum nozzle attached to my prick. It hurts bad, doc. I think it may have torn it off. The burning is intense." I lean over and grab the arm of the chair as I almost pass out. Embarrassment nearly overtakes the pain.
The doctor, laughing, tells me that she needs to inform her supervising colleague and receive a second opinion due to the fact that I am first man she has ever seen with his dick stuck in a vacuum nozzle.
Before I can grab a breath to ease my suffering, the room fills with health care professionals staring intently at my smothered cock. "Take a picture, it lasts longer," I moan, and they do.
"This one will go down in the medical books," states an old man in a white coat. I don't think the man in the white coat is a doctor. I think I remember seeing him pushing a broom in the waiting room.
The female doctor asks with a chuckle, "So how did this happen?"
Unable to think of anything better, I give her my lame ass excuse. "Well doctor, I was vacuuming in the nude. I like to do that, I find it very relaxing. I noticed a piece of lint on my pubic hair, so I decided to vacuum it off and my prick was caught by the suction of the vacuum." My explanation is very logical, but still complete bullshit.
The doctor intensely stares at my encapsulated shlong before providing me with a response. The wait is excruciating. "Sir, how is it possible for lint to get stuck on your pubic hair when you have none. Your pubic region is shaved down to the skin."
I attempt to formulate a comeback. I have nothing, damn her highly-trained mind. I have no alternative but to come clean. "Okay Doctor Smarty Pants, you caught me. I was watching porn while vacuuming in the nude and I decided to have a little fun and it got a bit out of hand."
The doctor gently informs me that she does not have the expertise to remove a vacuum nozzle from my appendage, and for that reason she is going to rely on one of her most valuable team members. The white coats file out, and I am left alone in my stall to wait for this highly skilled health care professional. To my surprise in strolls a Cro-Magnon man dressed in maintenance coveralls bearing the name tag, Big Larry.
Knocked down and beaten, I submit to the man they call Big Larry. The back alley procedure takes less than two minutes to complete and is anything but clinical. "Hallelujah!" I cheer with a single tear running down my cheek and my arms stretched to the heavens. "The snake trap has finally released my cock, I can walk again."
So I think.
The death march to the discharge desk is hell. Each step sends shooting pain into my groin. For a second I fear that both of my testicles are going to explode. I fight through the grim discomfort and receive my discharge. I am banished from the emergency unit in shame. As I exit the hospital I faintly overhear someone comment that my picture may be put on the Internet.
I always wanted to be famous.