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You know you're in a hospital when things start disappearing faster than socks in a laundry room. I went in for surgery, and suddenly my personal belongings vanished into thin air. I'm convinced there's a secret hospital black market where patients' valuables are traded for painkillers. I asked the nurse, "Did you misplace my dignity along with my clothes?" And let's talk about hospital food. They say it's a balanced diet, but I swear, it's the only place where the Jell-O has more flavor than the mystery meat. I had a full meal, and I still felt hungry, so I called the nurse and asked, "Can I get a side of fries with this IV, please?
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So, I recently had surgery, and they told me I might experience some confusion afterward. Confusion? That's an understatement. I woke up thinking I was on a spaceship being probed by aliens. I mean, the recovery room looked like a scene from a sci-fi movie. The nurse had this metallic tray with instruments that wouldn't look out of place on the Starship Enterprise. I half-expected Captain Kirk to walk in and ask, "How's the patient, Bones?" And can we talk about the anesthesia? They promised sweet dreams, but all I got was a bizarre mix of reality TV reruns and interpretive dance performances by floating nurses. I woke up questioning my life choices, wondering if I had accidentally signed up for a talent show in my unconscious state.
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You ever notice how hospitals have this unspoken dress code? I mean, you walk in, and suddenly everyone's wearing these stylish backless gowns. It's like they're trying to bring sexy back to surgery or something. And let's talk about those hospital socks. They're like the fashion statement of the sick. They've got those anti-slip dots on the bottom, so you can slide into surgery without doing the cha-cha. I walked into the operating room, and I felt like I was about to audition for a medical-themed dance competition. But hey, you know you've hit rock bottom fashion-wise when your underwear has more coverage than your hospital gown. I asked the nurse, "Is this a hospital or a runway for medical misfits?" I mean, who designed these things, and where can I return them for a refund?
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Have you ever noticed how surgeons whisper right before they put you under? They gather like a secret society, talking in hushed tones about the upcoming procedure. It's like they're plotting a surprise party for your organs. And then, just as you're about to drift off, you catch snippets of phrases like "scalpel," "anesthesia," and "Oops, wrong patient." I asked my surgeon, "Are you discussing my surgery or planning a covert mission?" I mean, I appreciate the professionalism, but it feels like they're auditioning for a role in a medical thriller. I half-expected them to start reciting Shakespearean soliloquies as they sliced and diced.
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