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Thursday, 17 January 2008

Country Bumpkin

By Lia of the Yum Yum Café blog

[Years and years ago I used to collect stories of embarrassment and mortification from friends and family. Over a decade or two, I collected these pearls of narration. I thought I might write down some of these stories, names and places changed of course, and share them with you.]

My friend, Mary, came to live in the Big City (Toronto) at the end of the 1950s. She comes from her family’s farm in northern Ontario to attend secretarial college.

Now, Mary has never been sick before coming to live in the city. Matter of a fact, she has never visited a doctor before. She was born at home with the help of a midwife. The cold, clear, clean northern air and home-grown food helped her grow into healthy and happy adult.

Much to her dismay, Mary comes down with a very painful bladder infection during her secretarial studies. A friend gives her the name and address of a general practitioner not far from the college. So, Mary goes off early the next morning to see the doctor. The doctor examines her and says that she should come back again the next day with a urine sample. He explains to her that she is to use a sterilised jar to collect her urine.

The next day Mary arrives back at the doctor’s office with a large pickle jar containing all of the urine that she peed in the last 24 hours. A good two-litres worth.

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 02:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


Oh my! I would love to have seen the look on that doctor's face.

I hope she rinsed out the pickle juice before! LOL

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