Ahh, the joys of serving the fatherland...
Since my country still likes the idea of conscription - just in case the Russians come back- I was to decide whether to go to the military or to do civilian service for nine months. Being the wuss I am, I settled for the latter and started working in a hospital just about one year ago.

There was this 70 year old man, a nice fellow, he may have been a little schizophrenic and offbeat at times, but generally he was a rather pleasant person. In addition, he was also used to smoking 2 packets of cigarettes a day. Sabrina, one of the nurses and I had just returned him from the recovery room, after he had undergone surgery. He was still pretty drugged up. When we were about to leave the room, he told us he desperately needed to use the bathroom. So my colleague and I helped him out of bed and lead him to the toilet. I then left the room, assuming that Sabrina would be able to handle the situation on her own. After all, I had better things to do, i.e. proceeding to the recreation room and "reading" the February issue of Fhm. After about 4 seconds of entertainment, I heard Sabrina calling me. Expecting the worst, I immediately hurried to the toilet where I found her trying to hold the old man down. Our patient had decided that this would be the perfect time for a smoke and had had the glorious idea of standing up and trying to barge past my colleague to get to his massive cigarette storage located next to his bed. During mid-shit. Bliss. The fact that Sabrina had destroyed his humble wish made him pretty angry. I grabbed hold of him and tried to calm him down, which wasn't effective at all. Grumbling, he attempted to hit me. I caught a short glimpse at the toilet-bowl and saw one of the biggest turds in the history of mankind. And that was just the part of it that hit the target. The old man was quite strong for his age making it difficult for me not to let him go. Both of us held him tight until he calmed down a little. With me still holding him, Sabrina then proceeded to remove any remains of this incident and started to clean the man's behind. I then realized I had lost a button of my trousers during the scuffle. Being quite skinny, not even the tightest pair of those horrible white trousers fitted me perfectly. Now, with the main button gone, every movement I made let my trousers slide down a little. So there we were, still standing in this narrow restroom smelling of shit. Me holding down an elderly man with my trousers down to thigh level, while the nurse was bending over, wiping his arse. It must have looked like a fetish game of Toilet-Twister™. It's somewhat humiliating needing someone else to pull your trousers up, makes you wish you had a third hand. Eventually we somehow managed to persuade our old friend to return to bed, where he got a tranquilizer. Fortunately, the rest of our shift was rather boring.

And yes, we weren't able to flush this thing, as it was just too big. Left that for the janitor.
(Successful Failure, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 21:50, Reply)