Living in the Midwest is a beast 9 months of the year. Snow storms, ice storms, hail storms, weeks of sub-zero weather can really get depressing. As luck would have it, it's actually one of the few perks of residency - I miss most of the really nasty weather since I'm working all the time. But the true beauty of Minnesota is those 3 glorious months of summer. A time when you can go outside without 3 layers of wool on, your car always starts on the first try, and the sun sets at 10pm. This is when the hidden gems of the city open their doors: the roof top bar.
I'm always a bit surprised by how much money some of these establishments have spent glitzing up a space that's used less than half the year. Having grown up on the beach, I'm more accustom to a simpler happy hour: a bikini, a beer and a beach towel. But I guess when your outside time is limited, and the ocean is a thousand miles away, you work with what you've got.
Walking up the three flights of stairs to the roof deck of Stella's, I question my footwear choice for the evening. But seriously, if I don't break out the 6 inch stilettos for drinks with the girls, they would be growing dusty bunnies in my closet seeing how most days I'm stuck rocking orthotic clogs at work. As I round the corner, I spot Priya and Viv at table near the bar. Both are dressed up in cute sun dresses and killer heels. I wave as I weave my way towards them, garnering the attention of a few table of guys along the way. Teeny One Teaspoon cutoffs that make my legs look a mile will do that.
"Gem!" Viv hollers at me as I near the table. "You've got some catching up to do! We're already on our second pitcher!"
"Sangria, yum!" I respond as I slide into an open chair. "I'm on call tomorrow but I definitely deserve a drink or two after my clinic today. Why anyone willing schedules a clinic full of patients with chronic back pain on a Friday afternoon is beyond me. I swear the schedulers do it just to watch us suffer."
"I feel you girl," Priya says with a huff. "I spent the afternoon doing prostate exams at the VA."
"And once again, you've got me beat. How you can put up with that shit I'll never understand."
"Seriously Pri," Viv adds, "I'd take the silicone Barbie wannabes with unrealistic expany day."
"Awful I know but hey, 'I save people's lives.'" Pri replies with an eye roll. It's the generic response we all give for the terrible parts of our jobs.
"Moving on to a more fun topic," I interject, "what was the deal Thursday night? What could you have possibly needed a 3ft pair of pin cutters for?"
"Ha! I almost forgot I haven't told you guys yet. I'm totally gonna win the golden penis this year!" The golden penis is the award the urology department gives out to the best consult of the year. It is, as its name implies, a gold spray-painted dildo stapled to a plaque that's hanging in their resident's office.
"So get this," she continues, "23 year old guy comes in to the ER and tells the nurse his ring is stuck and he can't get it off and that it's starting to hurt. She triaged him to a level 4 and stuck him in the waiting room for a couple of hours. He finally makes it into an exam room and it turns out he may have left out a tiny detail when he checked in - the ring was stuck on his dick. Turns out the guy dropped a ton of MDMA the night before at a club, took some chick home and had some fun fucking with a cockring on. Unfortunately for him, he passed out on his living room couch before he took it off and woke up 12 hours later with a dick that had swollen to the size of a grapefruit. Needless to say, the ring was stuck and the harder he tried to get it off the more swollen his junk got."
"That's a horrific visual," Viv states, sipping on her drink.
"No kidding. Anyways, the ER resident call me down to take a look since he had no clue what to do and honestly looked like he was gonna pass out just looking at the mess. I placed a penile block..."
"Ha ha, cock block," I interrupt.
"Yeah, exactly," she continues. " I tried to cut the ring off with the little ring cutter that they take wedding rings off with but the metal was way too thick. The patient make a stupid joke about asking security for a pair of bolt cutters which reminded me of the wire cutters I've seen Gemma use when she puts traction pins in polytraumas."
"And in comes the Brubaker," I add.
"Yup. Those suckers worked like a charm!" Priya exclaimed. "You should have seen the guy's face when I brought them into the room though. I swear he must of thought I was gonna cut it all off. It was classic."
"I feel like that should be some kind of PSA," Viv adds.
"What - don't use kinky sex toys?" I ask.
"No, I'm pro-kinky sex toys. I was thinking more along the lines of 'don't do drugs."
I smile and roll my eyes. "That's one way to get through to teenage boys. 'Don't do drugs, you may end up getting your dick cut off."
"Only almost cut off," Priya interjects.
"On that note, I'd like to propose a toast," Viv continues while raising her glass in the air. "To cocktails and cockrings."
Pri and I join with raised glasses.
"And to winning the golden penis!" I add.
"Here here!"
YOU ARE READING
The Doctor Diaries
General FictionHot, talented, and wicked smart Gemma Walker, MD is at the top of her class. In a field dominated by men, she holds her own in and out of the operating room. Follow her on her adventure as she navigates through the ups and down of residency and fi...
