Rotten Vagina Flower

One time I was assigned to care for a very large woman in her 40's who had been experiencing profuse vaginal bleeding for months before seeking medical help. All this bleeding had left her anemic and weak- to the point that she could not clean the constant discharge from the flabby folds of her legs and belly. The poor lady would just lie helplessly in the bed, spraying a can of floral air freshener every few minutes in hopes of masking the smell.

No words could adequately describe this smell. I had been an Emergency Medical Technician on an Ambulance for 3 years and a Student Nurse for several months by this point, and I have never smelled anything worse. Ever. Three words come to mind: Rotten Vagina Flower.

The only way we could manage the odor was to clean her well (this took 2 assistants to hold the folds of fat back while a third person cleaned), put on a large absorbent diaper, and wrap her in several sheets to contain the smell.

Unfortunately this poor woman likely had a terminal uterine or ovarian cancer. She needed an MRI to get a diagnosis, but she was too large to fit in the normal MRI machines, so we had to take her to an "open" MRI unit.

Well, just as we were moving her to the table of the open MRI unit, the carefully wrapped sheets came loose and the absorbent diaper fell off. A thick, potent mass of "rotten vagina flower" smell wafted up and hit our noses. The assistant across from me blanched deathly pale and literally began to dry heave while tears started welling up in his eyes.

At this most inopportune time, I got a severe case of the giggles. I tried to suppress it, but I soon was laughing so hard I had to run to the bathroom before I soiled myself.

And this whole time, our patient is a younger, intelligent woman who is completely aware of her situation and our response. After the scan, she looked at me somberly and said, "I heard you."

Sometimes, amidst all the smells and messiness and noise, it is hard to remember that our patients are always listening.