Tales of Entrapment
One of my mother's first patients when she started nursing in the 1960s was a homeless man who wandered into the ER with the neck of a glass bottle cinched around the anatomical member under discussion here. Most of the staff were flustered, but a doctor solved matters expediently: he got a hammer from maintenance personnel, wrapped the appendage in cloth to contain fragments, and gave the glass a tap. Scarcely a nick.
My brother, a fire fighter and paramedic, took a call by a middle aged man who was trapped in a chaise lounge. The man had stepped out on his porch to enjoy the sunrise and, being in a rural area with no nearby neighbors, didn't bother with clothing when he relaxed in the lounge. In time, dangling bits became entrapped between straps and necessitated fire fighter intervention. Simple scissors worked in that case. The codger was apparently a sport and told his rescuers they didn't need to hold back the laughter, just his name in any retellings.
Biting the hand that feeds IT
