Things may have changed but back in the
day ranchers could buy and administer their own medicine. What they bought
for livestock was the same as used in humans in many cases. The human dosages
were printed on the labels.
One tough old bird had a nagging cough
and decided a penicillin shot as in order. Why see a doctor when his brother in
law had penicillin, syringes, and needles? Save a few bucks, no?
Down at the barn he dropped his pants and
bent over. The forthcoming bellow would have shamed a bull. Evidently the size
of needle and the technique for humans is different than cows. Who knew?
10 comments:
Hahahaha.
Reading that one aloud was moosic to my ears.
haha... then, I found this joke..
One day, a man staggers into the emergency room with a concussion, multiple bruises, and a five iron golf club wrapped around his neck.
Naturally the doctor is curious and asks him what happened to him.
"Well, it was like this" says the man. "I was enjoying a quiet round of golf with my wife. We were playing the fifth hole which is really difficult and we both sliced our drives into a field full of cows. We went into the field to look for our balls, and while I was searching I noticed that one of the cows had something white in it's backside. So I went over, lifted up the cow's tail, and sure enough, there was a golf ball with my wife's monogram on it stuck right in the middle of the cow's butt. That's when I made my big mistake."
"Why, what did you do?", asks the doctor.
The man says, "Well, I lifted the tail, pointed, and shouted to my wife, "Hey! This looks like yours!"
Groan.
LOL, yep 'slightly' different size needles...
Teachable moment.
Reminds me of the farmer whose wife pregnant. After talking to the doctor and finding out how much it will cost, he said a woman berthing a baby cannot be any different than any of the animals on the farm. It is natural. After all, he told the doctor, I have watched and helped in many births on the farm. So the doctor said okay, but he would stop by and check on the baby after it was born.
A few weeks after the baby arrived, the doctor stopped by. “How did things go? Any problems?” asked the doctor.
The farmer said, “Nope! Everything went as I expected, and the only problem I had was getting her to eat the afterbirth.”
You are the prince of gross.
Thank you. I work hare at it.
So Coumadin(R), the blood thinner given to people with atrial fibrillation (among other uses) is generically called warfarin, which is used as rat poison. A famous (or infamous) patient who we'll call Farmer Dave (because he was a farmer, and Dave is just plain made up), upon finding out that his prescription Coumadin was plain old warfarin in fancy packaging, declared "Hell, I've got sacks of that stuff in the barn. I'll take that instead." Now the thing is that warfarin dosage has to be carefully titrated/maintained: too little and you have no benefit, too much and you bleed, possibly to death, which is how the rats get killed. Other problem is that the concentration of warfarin in the rat poison is variable, unlike in Coumadin.
So Farmer Dave agreed to get titrated to the therapeutic dose on prescription Coumadin. He then nicked himself shaving to see how long it took for the bleeding to stop. Each new sack of rat poison he repeated the nick/bleeding procedure until he titrated his dose for that particular batch of rat poison. His doc said that Farmer Dave's INR (the measurement for "blood thinness") was always correct based on his razor test.
Not a funny story, but I was impressed by Farmer Dave's cleverness and stubborness. (Both good things, within reason.)
@Coffeypot: placentophagia appears to be a for-real thing these days.
Hard to beat a farmer for stubbornness and frugality.
Post a Comment