So there was this obese women in the ER. And I'm talking like OBESE. I'd give her a rough BMI of 55? 60? Weight pushing 500lbs? This was a big girl. Luckily, along with her weight, she retained her sense of humor and was spending most of her time in the ER joking around (read: oversharing...) with the staff. Now mind you, this woman could not climb up onto the stretcher by herself and could not spread her legs independently for us to put a foley in. Yes, her thighs were so big that as far as she could spread her legs out to the side from the hip, they were still touching. It took eight nurses to put that foley in her, mostly holding her legs and pannus out of the way. EIGHT. That's another story in and of itself.
Ms Thighs: "You girls having trouble down there?"
Nurses: Grunt. Groan.
Ms Thighs: "Get in the gym girls. Cousin Thighs does this by herself."
Nurses: collective quizzical stare
Ms Thighs: "What? Oh you mean what's she doin' down there? Well once a month me and Mr Thighs like to have ourselves a nice night you know. Mr Thighs doesn't have enough hands to get up in there, so we pay my cousin $20 to make a little path for him."
O.M.G.
I love my cousins. I love my friends. I love my siblings. I love a lot of people. I don't love none of y'all bitches enough to hold your fat out of the way so you can get some. Not a chance. Not even with headphones and a HAZMAT suit.
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