I had a constipated patient. I've always been nearly judgmental about this in anyone who isn't a noncommunicative completely immobile nursing home patient, because what the hell? You can buy Fleets over the counter. But I say "nearly judgmental" because it seems to be a difficult issue for people, and you can't do a milk-and-molasses bucket enema at home, so whatever. Point being with all of this, I'm pretty used to constipated patients. But this one was a new deal.
First off, he told me an excellent joke.
What does a mathematician do when he's constipated?
He works it out with a pencil.
Can I have a pencil?
His next gambit was
I think I'll try singing on the toilet. Sometimes, when I hit the right notes, it knocks it loose.
They don't give medals in nursing for keeping a straight face, but I feel like they should and that I should get one.
FWIW, I don't think the singing worked, but he decided to take some mag citrate and go home, so it, well, all worked out.