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I went to the clinic in our small town yesterday and finally found someone, a wonderful nurse practitioner, who finally is gonna get me set up with rehab services to help relieve the trapped nerve in my right arm.
A weird thing happened as soon as I drove up. A man came in behind me and went to the desk where the receptionist and NP were. He pulls a specimen bottle from his pocket, opens it and says "look, I think part of it is still alive, but the bottom part has dried out and died."Â Â My ears were like antennas taking this in. The women were making UGH sounds and they hastily told him to cap the specimen up and mail it into some lab--the NP said "you have the address, mail it in!"
So he leaves, grousing, and I ask what was it, a tapeworm, or some kind of worm? They wouldn't say--patient privacy laws and all that, and I'm dying to know, but they did say he has a habit of bringing "specimens" in for them to look at.
Being a germaphobe, I hated to touch the door handle he touched going out --God knows if he'd been handling his disgusting "specimen." I used Purel about three times just thinking about it.
Susil
I can remember an incident when my mother was in nursing school. Her sister was trying to help her unload the dishwasher and my mother got very upset when she was putting something away. She didn't want her to put it in the cupboard because it wasn't sterile! My aunt had to clench her jaw to keep from laughing at her. 
restrooms with my bare hands. If they are the push
down kind, I use my elbow. I'll remember what you said
about your bathroom and if I ever visit, will bring my
own portapotty although I do think my nether regions
are pure as the driven snow.