Our family doctor when I was a boy was a quiet sort with (I learned when I got older) a very dry sense of humor. He told me once of being on duty at the local hospital's ER and finding one night a male patient with a flashlight, switched on, inserted in the above-mentioned orifice. After a few moment's consideration the doctor asked, "Do you want me to take it out or just change the batteries?"
A woman who went to church with my mother years ago was an ER nurse for many years. My favorite story of hers was the time the police brought a middle-aged black woman in to view and determine if a recently deceased black male was her husband, who'd gone missing a few days before. Karen (the nurse) was detailed to escort the woman and the officer to the morgue. She rolled out the body from the cooler and the policeman flipped back the sheet, uncovering not just the deceased's face but also his very large "endowment". The woman looked at the face, took a longer look at his "gift", and said, "No, that's not my Herbert, but someone has lost a dear, dear friend."
