On the comedy of trauma, death, and burns

One of my instructors this semester has a great, morbid sense of humor. I often bust out laughing at some of the odd things she says. For instance, “People coming in to the ER are scared because it’s probably the first time that they’ve felt like they were dying. And they’re right, it might happen.” It’s funny to me at least.

Another time she was talking about people who drive themselves or a family member to the hospital instead of calling 911. “I can’t tell you how many people have died of a heart attack at corner of 38th & Lamar [one block away from Seton Main Hospital].” All I could think was, “The corner of 38th & Lamar is haunted! Restless souls at Subway and Relax the Back store!”

During a lecture on shock, our instructor had just said “If that happens, call the rapid response team,” when the phone in the classroom started ringing. She pulled off a great double-take. It was unexpected, perfectly timed, and therefore really funny. It does beg the question of why we have a phone in the classroom. Incoming calls are always wrong numbers.

Just last week she was lecturing about how percentage of burns are estimated and she said that genital burns count for 9%. The class quickly pointed out that her slide said 1%. “I was just trying to wake y’all up. Y'all don’t have a sense of humor.” Cause genital burns are hilarious. In fact, I’m going to show up at open mic night at Velveeta Room and do five minutes on genital burns. It’ll kill.

More odd comedy as it occurs.