SURGEON GRAFTS SECOND SET OF HANDS
TO FOOTLESS FATHER
In what the American Medical Association is calling a “royal sh*t show,” a surgeon in Minneapolis decided to graft a set of hands onto the leg stumps of a man who was understandably expecting new feet.
“Imagine my surprise when I woke up and looked down at my hands,” the patient said. “In one hand, I held the hospital bed railing. In another, I clutched the nurse’s call button. I n another, I absentmindedly twirled a pen and in the fourth I snapped my fingers along to a catchy ditty on the radio. It was shocking!”
Nurses sedated the agitated patient, primarily to keep him from talking more to the press, but he soldiered on, yelling epithets at the doctor and simultaneously giving him the finger, the bird, flipping him off, and extending his middle finger.
“I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but WTF?” the four-handed man complained. “Now I’ve got a whole closetful of shoes that are worthless!”
The surgeon, a Dr. Flip Turdwhistle, was intercepted running to his car and made the following statement.
“Look, was it a perfect operation? No. Was it by the book? No. Does it make any sense whatsoever? No. But you have to look at it from my point of view. We were waiting for the donor to supply the feet that we needed and there was some kind of delay. It happens. Well, my staff will tell you, I’m not the most patient of people, so after ten or fifteen minutes I said ‘F it! Let’s see what else we have lying around and let’s start stitching!’”
That impulse led the doctor to perform a 17-hour, highly unorthodox surgery that resulted in a patient that can easily play cat’s cradle with himself.
“It’s actually got a lot of benefits, “the doc rationalized. “Now he can walk on his hands without even trying. Or he can perform Dueling Banjos all by his lonesome!”
“To be honest, it’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” the “hand-some” patient mused, thinking back to the tragic papercut that severed both his feet in the first place. “I guess I can live with this, but I do wish my kids would stop calling me the handyman.”