Patient Euphemisms Part 1: Doctors have heard it all!

You know how there are times when you contract something really icky and you realize that you’ll have to see a doctor but you are so embarrassed about your weird “issue” that you’d rather swallow your own tongue than talk to mister doctor? These are the times when you get super creative with words and churn out some pretty lame euphemisms for your ailments. Cute names don’t make slimy diseases any cuter, yo! So, here’s my list of lame-ass euphemisms a lot of mortified patients use to describe their dysfunctional bodies! Been there. Done that.


You wake up one fine morning, with a stream of butterflies fluttering in your stomach, steadily marching in a lump towards your throat and you realize that it’s not love that’s simmering in your gut but the last night’s Chinese laced with enterotoxins. You scoot down to the nearest washbasin, in a race with your bawling bowels, spilling some of the barf on your mother’s expensive rug while you are at it because hey, what mother does not require permanent evidence to bring up in an argument the next time you screw something up? You spend your day recycling every last meal of your life in your mouth, your only salvation being the exercise your retching caused your floppy abdominal muscles. Finally, at some point, when your fatigued throat threatens to choke the fuck up and pass out, you decide it’s time to see a doctor.

You reach the clinic clutching a bunch of polythene bags, looking like a homeless rag-picker only to find a handsome resident filling in for your pot-bellied family doctor. You cannot possibly admit that you have been making vulgar dinosaur noises all day, to someone like him.  A certain Lily Aldrin once wisely said that telling people your exact ailment makes them imagine you suffering from it. You cannot possibly afford to look so bad in that handsome creature’s imagination! You stuff the polythene into your cargo pockets, quickly finger-comb your hair and smile in an attempt to seem gracefully ill.

“Doctor, I have just been a bit under the weath-erhlleleeeaaarghhhhhbleeaaaarghhhh…”

How you think you appear:

How you really appear:

Bye-bye, you rare, handsome, son of a bitch!

Number Two: The GAS(tric) Chamber Tragedy

All was well until the day your little belly decided that it was tired of being a belly and wanted to be a balloon instead. It ambitiously bloated up to twice its normal dimensions and when it could no longer contain its awesomeness, it farted! It was okay at first, pretty cool even! You enjoyed parading around the house in your boxers, marking your territory with crispy, garlic farts every two seconds. You even tried beatboxing with your farts: whoopie whoop whoopie whoopie whoop whoooooosh! But hours passed, and your ass was still having way too much fun blowing its own trumpet. The house had started to reek of rotten cockroach eggs when you decided that you did not want to die in a holocaust of your own making. Soon after, you set afoot to see your doctor, hoping to exhaust your wind by the time you reached there.

But did it go the way you planned it to?

Doctor: Hello dear. What brings you here today?

You: Inflation. I mean flatulence. Trouser cough. (Damn! I should have memorized the Huffington list of synonyms for farts.) I just feel a little bloated, that is all.

Doctor: How long have you been feeling bloated? Are you passing stools properly?

You: (Should I describe the shape, size, color? No, that would be gross.) Um..

Doctor: Are you constipated?

You: (OMG, stop the poop talk already! You are waking the dragon) Ummmm…

Doctor: What is the frequency of your stools?

You: (Oh no. Fart downloading…No. NO. Mission Abort. Mission Abort)

Doctor: Are you Okay?

You: (I think I am going to pop a vein in my temple) Umm *Tries to mumble something and fails* *Lets ass do the talking*

Doctor: Umm…


Number Three: The Snorosaurus

You happened to travel overnight with your best buds and tired from the journey, you relaxed into your seat trying to get some shut-eye. However, you woke up in the middle of the night to a screaming match and eggs aimed at your head. At first, nothing made sense until a friend made a grave accusation: YOU SNORING BASTARD. You got defensive like:

Days passed second-guessing yourself and when you asked your mother if you snore, she said: “No you don’t. You just pretend you are a tiger when you sleep. A tiger with a sour throat?” When your mom attempts at making snoring jokes, its time for you to see a doctor. But you are hardly in your mid-twenties. Snoring is for oldies! How are you possibly going to admit to being a Snorosaurus? You’ll make a snoring joke and play it cool because YOLO!

So you go to see your doctor and be like:

Doctor looks at you like: 99 people have got 99 problems and you are one for each of them!

To be continued…


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