ALVINE ANECDOTE

Alvine Anecdote

As the Supervisor strode purposefully toward the unit a sense of disturbance was detected upon approach to the nursing station. One nurse appeared inconsolable issuing a considerable amount of verbal barrage to nobody in particular. She was expunging her disquiet with regard to the amount of food brought into her patient’s room by visiting relatives. She cited a party of picnickers in the room had occluded all access for her to effectively carry out her nursing duties for the patient. It was quickly brought to her attention by the Supervisor, with assertive agreements from the Ward Clerk, that family banquets held by patients in hospital rooms with relatives or friends was commonplace in the Kingdom, and that sensitivity to this custom be shown. The nurse nodded vociferously acknowledging these judicious and leaned apophthegms from her superior. In an attempt to respond and cut a word in edge wise she began gesticulating madly, her eyes bulging like two large dinner plates, hanging her arms at meters length, with palms facing each other as if to indicate a rather splendid catch on her last fishing trip. But before she’d had a chance to explain herself, a flurry of black silk and white thobe offering ma’asalama’s and shukrans to the nurses broke the din as the group departed. A new observation was made by the frenzied nurse who proceeded to inform THIS was the family who had earlier brought in an inordinate amount of baggage containing MAJOR sized food, however, were leaving virtually empty handed. Perplexed, the nurse headed down the corridor with a number of chuckles audible in her eddy by those who remained, as it seemed elementary to them the situation was simply quite understandable.

Some time later that evening the same patient presented to the nurses station to disclose an issue of his own. He claimed the water in the shower cum bathtub would not drain and declared his shower gave him the impression he was in a submarine that had just been hit. Maintenance was immediately called and within minutes a loyal vassal to the cause of plumbery could be seen entering the zone, carrying a half-length broom handle with red rubber suction flange attached. The nozzle piece of the apparatus was slung over his shoulder and flounced gaily with each bonny loping stride. Upon presentation to the room, spicy restaurant quality scented wafts flared ones nares yet evidence of cuisines were not immediate to the eye. Indeed the shower tub was ankle deep in soapy water. Remarkably its motionless state, more than validated the patients claim that the drain was indisputably blocked. With that, the man with the flange plied his trade, as one does when the rubber meets the hollow. Each downward heave created a reactionary surging rumble, ala borborygmi, beneath the tub and beneath the floor. His pace quickened as the blockage began to shift until he became a thrashing machine, his rubbery dome exchanging configuration from concave to convex one hundred to the minute. A bead of perspiration flung off the tip of his nose, a lock of hair slapped his forehead at the fulcrum of each thrust. His efforts were extraordinary and most masterful to observe. With water splashing to all surfaces within the bathroom, there was a sudden release and the flange man raised the soggy diaphragm from the drain hole in triumph as the remaining water created its own vortex before cascading due south without resistance. Some low level cheering ensued for the resumption of water flow, however it could not be discounted there were a few extra adulations for the vehement physical display as well.

Then… a short time later, there were screams of urgency from a patient further down the corridor, in fact the room adjacent to that which had moments earlier had its pipes cleaned. The shrill from this gentleman was terribly disturbing and brought other patients from their rooms, each with searching looks of concern and enquiry. The nurses raced to his aid expecting to find a coded person or perhaps a fallen patient with injury and distress, however, their horrors were tenfold when they viewed the source of his abhorrence. Each stood in disbelief with mouth agape at the apron of the bathroom; there in the shower cum bath tub of this room was a mass of writhing intestines. A nurse turned off the faucet for its deluge was causing the alvine matter to appear alive, as if its serpentine shape complete with greyish intermittent bulging compartments were not hideous enough to ones sight. The patient was certain there had been a homicide or satanical disembowelment – that his room was at the very least ‘possessed’. A change of room was effected immediately affording the nurses the space to figure out what to do. They clung to each other, scared and without answers - what if it were true ? And how did human intestines find there way into his bathtub ?

An on-call representative from the Pathology Department was telephoned, he like the maintenance chap appeared on the scene pronto. He came carrying a very large glass jar with a silvery lid. His own sense of excitement was palpable, exacerbated by the ball of each eye filling every millimetre of his horn rimmed spectacles - the glass of which seemed better suited to equip an ocean liner port hole. He may not have been aware of his presumed ability to chew apples through a tennis racquet, though his overbite was unavoidable and steering his course to collect the grizzly find. The pathos in this pathologist was lost momentarily, his sense of enthusiasm and indiscrete chortles suggested his penchant for deranged laboratory experiments, as he himself was perhaps the unfortunate product of one chemical spill too many. Pulling a shovel like spoon from his back pocket, he scooped the mottled innards into his flagon-like jar and swivelled the silver lid on tight. The jar was hitched under his gangly arm and with a lerperous snigger he set forth to determine from which mammal the intestines belonged. The nurses unsure whether to call the police, had conducted a thorough search of the unit, yet no middle-less body could be found; no traces of foul play and interestingly no blood was on or around the alvine discovery. The other patients had returned to their rooms, a semblance of calm was being restored amid an atmosphere punctuated with question marks.

The patient whose plumbing was blocked could be seen carrying an awkward load to the trash. The black plastic bag sported bulging prominences that raised the level of curiosity in the flappable nurse to fever pitch. She launched into a quickened stride and met the man just as he was lifting the plastic bag over the lip of the bin, clearly struggling with the weight and awkwardness of the object. The nurse grabbed at the side of the bag believing it to contain evidence sparking the unexplainable events between his room and the one next to it. The phone was ringing at the nurses station, yet no-one seemed interested, the nurse grappling with the patient and the garbage bag was far more rousing. She struggled with the bag inside the trash-can; her nail accidentally pierced the bag causing it to split down one side. Finally the ward clerk answered the phone, a moment later he cupped the mouth piece with his hand, and tilted his head skyward; he licked then pursed his lips in preparation for announcement. The split in the bag widened over a hairy mass allowing a lifeless head to pop free and protrude listlessly onto the other refuse. Colleagues witnessed and heard the thud of the nurse hitting the floor beside the trash-can. The ward clerk still holding the phone his lips quivering, his oration stymied by the collapsing swan dive made by the nurse. For a few seconds nobody moved they feared the visuals now apparent in the can. The patient looked back at the nurses eyes burning steely glances into his, bewilderment written all over his face. Before anybody had moved the ward clerk finally found voice albeit through a dry mouth and across a parched leathery tongue “It’s Pathology – that guy says the guts belong to a sheep”.

By : Paul Delbridge