DERMATOLOGY 101

The doctor had me drop my pants and did an examination. After careful consideration he said, “What you have is only a small problem.” I was hoping he wasn’t talking about the size of my penis. Nevertheless, he gave me a prescription for some kind of ointment, and that was that; temporarily.

I picked up the prescription at a local Wal-Mart pharmacy, and rushed home to apply it, hoping to get some quick relief.

After 15 minutes, I experienced a burning sensation down below that was so fierce I had to jump into the bath to put out the flames.

As soon as I washed, powdered, and felt human again, I got on the phone and called the doctor.

“Nurse Ratched” from the movie, One Flew Over The Cuccoo’s Nest, took my call and said in a low but intimidating voice, “The doctor is busy with patients right now, may I help you? “Ummm, well,” I said, “my problem is a bit difficult to explain over the phone.” She persisted, ” I’m a registered nurse you must tell me what’s wrong.” I said, “I think I’d rather have the doctor call me back when he’s free.” This may have angered her because she raised her voice to a scream and in a semi-hysterical state she let me have it with all the sarcasm she could muster, “Doctor is a very busy man and he cannot be making calls to patients, so you had better let me try to help you.” I bit my tongue, but that didn’t stop what it was about to say; I swear, it spoke as if it had a mind of its own, and didn’t take orders from the brain.

I took a deep breath, like a tenor getting ready to deliver a climactic aria to an opera, and I said, “O.K. Nurse, I’ll give it a try,”…”the doctor examined me about 2 hours ago and prescribed an ointment. I applied it, and now my balls are on fire and my dick feels like it’s going to fall off.”

She said, “One moment please, I’ll get the doctor.”