Guess what's under MY couch.

Interesting house call yesterday. It was the first place where I was scared to sit on the couch offered to me but much scared-er to put my bag of equipment on the floor. I know not everyone can get help with house cleaning, especially older, shut-in patients. Wearing my long white coat with my name-comma-MD embroidered on it made me think my butt was impervious to any body fluid on the couch, so I sat down anyway. The guy was a real jokester/talker so the appointment took about double the allotted 45 minutes.  First he asked if I was really a doctor. Yes. So I must know what it's called when they cut out your appendix. I said appendectomy.  He asked what it's called when they cut out your tonsils.  I said a tonsilectomy.  He asked what it's called when they cut something off your head. I said, "a head-ectomy?--okay I give up. " He said, "a haircut." He didn't wait for my laugh. He cracked himself up.

Half way through my extensive questionnaire he told me I would never guess what  3 little pets were hiding under the couch. I reminded him I was bit by a dog last week. He said they were hiding and I would never see them. I surmised it was a tougher answer than a cat or dog so I said ferret or snake. He laughed at me. He said skunks. He said he'd rescued three tiny babies when their mother got hit by a car.  He took the little ones to the vet who de-scented them.  (Is that really a thing?) He said one is albino, one is all black and one is black and white. And he said they follow him around like kittens.  I was starting to worry that rather than concern that I was sitting on body fluids on the couch, I was probably catching skunk fleas or aerosolized rabies. (That's NOT a thing.)

The last story he wanted to relate was about a time the game warden visited. (I didn't ask why a game warden was visiting but wondered if it was because neighbors reported skunks in his house.)  Anyway, while the warden was there, they heard a big plop and went out back and saw that a big bird had dropped a salmon on the doorstep.  The dude said he took it in, cleaned it and put in the fridge.  He asked the warden if he would get a ticket for fishing without a license.  He said the warden cleared him as it was the bird who was fishing, not the dude.  At this point, I don't know if the dude is pulling my leg or not.  I was so happy not to meet the skunks that I finished up the visit and let myself out the door.

What surprises will today hold?