As inspired by my friend BPV’s hiccup post. Please do not copy or distribute without my permission. You may link to it directly if you wish. Thanks and enjoy!
Holiday Hiccups
by Pink Ink
Ray should have known better than to drink the egg nog.
It wasn’t even the alcoholic type, just his mom’s old-fashioned fattening concoction that she served every Christmas Eve. And he knew the consequence, but he let her talk him into drinking a few foam cups anyway.
You see, when he drunk the stuff, he got the hiccups. Bad.
Which wasn’t altogether terrible, except for as a surgical tech, having the hiccups over the operating table was not Good Form.
So there Ray was, an hour into his hospital shift on Christmas Day, trying to hide out so he wouldn’t have to commit the unpardonable sin of hiccupping over a patient while holding sharp and pointy objects.
“Hey,” Brandon said, spying him in the supply closet. “Loosepants is looking for you.”
“Loosepants” was the staff code name for Dr. Lou Patagonia, who was a medical miracle in that his pants stayed up despite a very huge midriff. He performed surgery on patients whose appetites that led to their heart disease probably didn’t even begin to come close to his.
“Tell him,” Ray said, hiccupping, “tell him that I have to take care of, hiccup, a hangnail.”
“Oh, man, that sucks,” Brandon commiserated. “I hate getting the hiccups. I once had the hiccups for seven days straight.”
“No, hiccup, kidding?”
“Well, it would start and stop, but yes. Seven long days.”
“How’d you, hiccup, get rid of it?”
“My family banded together and tried to surprise the heck out of me. Didn’t work though. I was laughing too hard when I wasn’t hiccupping. And then Sunday rolled around and I showed up at church, hiccupless. I’m sure it was a miracle.”
Yes, Ray thought, after he got Brandon to agree to give Loosepants a brilliant excuse, he needed a miracle about right now. There was no way he was going into surgery and make a fool of himself in front of…
“Caroline!” he blurted out when he turned and came face to face with the new surgical resident. “I mean, hiccup, Dr. Baker.”
The beautiful and unflappable Dr. Caroline Baker arched an eyebrow at him. “Where’ve you been, Ray?” she asked.
“Just waiting, hiccup, for your orders, hiccup, ma’am!” he said.
“Oh no,” she said, “you’ve got the hiccups?”
“No, hiccup, it’s just a new verbal tic I’ve picked up. A Christmas, hiccup, tic.”
“Has anyone surprised you yet?” she asked.
“Nope, hiccup. Are you, hiccup, volunteering?”
“Let me think,” she said, looking up for inspiration at the ceiling. She then said, softly, “I’ve got it.”
She leaned over and gave him a swift peck on the lips. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered.
“What was that for?” he said, when he finally remembered how to speak.
She pointed at the ceiling, and he looked up to see a mistletoe someone had hung up the day before and which Ray had forgotten about.
“Amazing,” she said.
“Yes,” he agreed. “You are amazing.”
“No,” she said, “I mean, your hiccups are gone.”
And, true enough, they were.
Dr. Baker backed up and smiled. “See you at the operating table,” she said.
Ray smiled back, deciding that hiccups weren’t so bad after all.
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