I Was Attacked by a Farting FUPA

After reading Erik's blog title today, I found it necessary to share a little story with you. In fact, this story didn't involve a certain patient from Paulding county (where we get most of our bizness', but the cultural elite county of Douglas. Yes sir, out in Douglas County, you see, they can make smoking cigarettes a full time job. They have to because most of these people are "disabled" from their Dyabeetees, or high sugar as some would call it. Others claim they have really bad backs, so they simply cannot work, but they can easily hop over to the procedure table without even a grimace. (they probably don't grimace because they are fully loaded up on Loratabs and oxycontin, but that is another story in itself). Last week, a real real special 'gal from Douglas County came in for a procedure. Now, I couldn't really do a thorough history on her as she was sedated and on a ventilator, so I am not sure of her story. But upon inspection, she had all the signs of a girl who likes to party: badly bleached hair with 2" roots, nicotine stains between her fingers, and a fairly sizeable FUPA. For all the lay folk out there, a FUPA is a term used loosely to describe the area on a woman just below the belly button, but above the vaginal area. It Stands for Fat Upper Pussy Area. This woman had a very large FUPA, in fact, it was so large that the physician had ordered a sonogram earlier in the day just to make sure it wasn't some sort of malignant mass spreading its tentacles throughout her body. As I scrubbed in to prep the patient's groin (where we gain access to the artery in her leg and pass catheters up to her heart), I kindly asked my fellow coworker to tape back her stomach and FUPA. We like to call it a modified "Tummy Tuck". After the FUPA and fat rolls were properly secured, I went about my usual routine of prepping and draping the patient in the usual sterile fashion. `Just to make sure she was draped correctly, I reached down, with double gloves of course, to feel for her pulse in the groin. It was at that moment that the tape holding her FUPA out of the sterile field gave way, and a loud sound resembling someone passing a fair amount of flatus echoed throughout the procedure room. I jumped, turned my head of course as I hadn't properly donned all of my Personal Protective Equipment, ie eye protection, and the large FUPA fell back into its usual resting state. Thankfully, the patient has no recollection of this event as we laughed for several minutes. Only in healthcare I tell you.

Oh, the weekend. What beautiful weather we had. Friday night, Robert and I had wine on my balcony, and then headed over to a gathering in the North Tower of my condo building to celebrate Darrin's new job. It was Friday that I realized that my key fob works in the north tower and I had no idea. The gathering turned into a party, and I was happy because there were cute boys and my CDs were playing in the background. So reminiscent of P-Town I tell you. Somewhere around 1am, Jason, Robert, and I decided to walk down to Blake's for one last cocktail. With only 3 people inside (where was everyone?), we opted for Gilbert's where we ran into Duncan who was real busy chatting up some blond gal. I cruised the token straight guy, but my senses tell me he may go both ways.

With Diane in tow, I dragged Bret with me to lunch with my family at Houston's on Saturday afternoon. I was very excited as I hadn't seen my parents in a couple of months, and was pleased that my sister and niece came along as well. Molly Catherine acted all coy, and I was surprised she wasn't her usual talkative self. I attribute this to Bret being with me. I sometimes wonder if she knows that I am gay. You know, kids know a lot more than they are given credit for.

Saturday night, (Tr)Ashley came over for a drink and we made plans to go to dinner shortly afterward. Well, we decided to dine on wine and skip the big meal. Ty joined us as well as Cliff and Steve after returning from the Elton John concert. We stopped by MJQ for a quick minute where they we playing some funky deep house. The place was empty except for about 5 cute straight Georgia Tech boys. I danced for a minute then we moved on to Blake's where the same tired drag show was taking place. And crowded....we moved upstairs. Ashley, who will go up and talk to anyone, found it necessary to tell my secret crush (and I mean from the Backstreet Days) that I thought he was hot. neat. then I am beckoned over to have a conversation with him....thanks. He was nice enough, and fairly engaging.

Sunday was spent on the couch eating pizza and watching old movies. I got wrapped up in watching "Mystic Pizza" and had forgotten that Ben Affleck was in that film.

Tune of the Day: Ian Pooley - Samo Iluzija (pooleys new mix). This new funky house tune is very reminiscent of Inland Knights and I am loving it.