The Story of Mrs Giggle Shits

     In 2010, on the beautiful East Coast of Canada, I found work in my home town and surrounding area as a casual on call paramedic. I loved being able to help people in my home province, but there was one small problem - The more emergency calls I did, the more I felt like a geriatric specialist rather than a First Responder.  

     This story takes place one fateful day a few months into my career, I received a call to transport a geriatric patient from her nursing home to the dialysis unit for her appointment. This patient, whom the staff affectionately nicknamed Mrs. Giggle-shits, had tested positive for C-difficle, a rather unpleasant disease involving poop. As a result, we had to take extra precautions, donning gowns, masks, eye protection, and gloves during the transport.

     Now, Mrs. Giggle-shits got her nickname for a very peculiar reason. No matter what you said to her, she would burst into fits of giggles and shat herself. As a paramedic, I often used humor to help patients feel safe and build trusting environments, but little did I know at the time, that with Mrs. Giggle-shits, my laughter would only exacerbate the situation.

     The closer we got to the Dialysis Unit, the stronger the stench of farts filled the air, and I couldn't help but find the situation absurdly comical. Every time I cracked a joke or even smiled, Mrs. Giggle-shits would burst into laughter, causing her to lose control of her bodily functions. The more she laughed, the more she shat, and the more she shat, the more I laughed. It was a vicious cycle of laughter and stink.

      Needless to say, by the time we arrived at the dialysis unit, the ambulance had transformed into a mobile comedy club. The nurses were taken aback by the unusual atmosphere that filled the room. They couldn't help but chuckle at the report I was giving of Mrs. Giggle-shits and me, both struggling to contain our laughter.

      Finally, we managed to compose ourselves long enough to complete the handover and bid Mrs. Giggle-shits farewell. As we left the unit, the relief was palpable. We couldn't help but laugh once more, but this time, it was a laughter of relief and exhaustion.

     That day, I learned a valuable lesson about the power of laughter. While it may be the best medicine in most situations, there are times when it's best to keep a straight face. Laughter, as it turns out, is not always the best medicine, especially when you're dealing with a patient who shats when she giggles.