Ripley’s, Believe It

Did you know the longest attack of hiccups in the Guinness World Records is 68 years? Approximately 430 million hiccups. This frightens me every time I get the hiccups and now it will frighten you too; my apologies.

I remember how excited my brothers used to get receiving the Guinness World Records books. I’m also embarrassed to admit I remember more of those record breaking facts than what I learned in history class. 

For instance, the hiccups, but also the man with the longest finger nails, tallest person, most tattoos/piercings, and most lightning strikes. 

To this day, I still don’t understand how the man with the longest fingernails picked up a cup, scratched his nose or wiped his behind. 

One that particularly caught my attention as an adult was the man who visited the most pubs. He visited 46,495 pubs from 1960 until 2014. Now that’s a record I could get behind breaking. 

Some of us dream of travelling the world. Some have dream jobs and some dream of breaking the world record for farthest eyeball pop. Dreams have no parameters or limits.

However, the eyeball popping just sounds unhygienic.

Breaking a world record has never been at the forefront of my mind, but I might be in the running for one category…

In Kick up Your Kilts, Kilts appeared. Today, a hole appeared.

The day started like any other day. I read through emails and sipped my coffee while residents entered my office with “good morning”, “how are you?” and “I didn’t like my breakfast this morning.” 

First on my “ta da” list was to complete an initial recreation therapy assessment with a new resident. 

I say “ta da” instead of “to do” because sometimes I need some magic to get things done.

When I entered his room he was sitting in bed eating breakfast. As we began talking, I was distracted by how he was sitting. He was slouched over to the right side farther than the Leaning Tower of Pisa and I was worried he was uncomfortable. I offered to help him reposition but he refused.

So to be at eye level with him, I informed him that I would crouch down because there’s nothing worse than staring up at someone. Unless it’s a 6’2″ Idris Elba. 

As I bent my knees, I heard the far too familiar sound of fabric ripping and a sudden breeze where there shouldn’t be. 

I (hopefully) stealthy glanced down to find a hole the size of my hand.

Therefore, I slowly rose back up with my legs suction cupped together like a penguin. The resident inquired, “Did you change your mind?” (Referring to my standing position).

No sir, my pants did.

I sheepishly told him what had just occurred.  We shared a laugh and then I politely removed myself from the conversation.

Since it was only about an hour or so until my lunch break, I remained at my desk and completed paperwork until I was able to run home (with my legs together) to change and throw away my pants. 

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve ripped my pants at work throughout my career but I wouldn’t be upset if the Guinness World Records phoned me for a follow up. 

**This resident was with us for only a short time and passed away a couple of weeks ago. I am so grateful to have had these laughs with him even at the expense of my pride.