So here I am limping my way into the local ER. It was a typical bar fight, and as a bouncer, I had to intercede. The antagonist decided to flee before the police arrived and I decided to chase and hold him. In the semi-darkened street I misjudged the height of the curb and stumbled, but I ignored the pain in my foot and kept moving.

I caught him and walked him back to the front of the bar just as the police arrived. The small crowd of patrons that had gathered on the sidewalk pointed out to the officers that he was the one that started the altercation and refused to stop when we asked. When the officers put their hands on him to effect the arrest he commenced to fight with them, he lost.

The bar manager said that he would press charges and followed the officers to the station. As it was closing time, the staff and assistant manager performed the close-up duties. As I worked the adrenaline wore off, and I became aware of the pain in my right foot. Once the club was closed and locked, I drove myself to the local hospital and the emergency room entrance or ER.

Due to the early hour, the place was deserted save for the single female triage nurse on duty at the intake desk. She was an older somewhat attractive female that had the look of someone that was confident in her position.

"Good morning," she said in a professional manner, as she affixed a polite smile on her face. "May I help you?" 

"Yes. I have a non-displaced fracture of the fifth metatarsal of my right foot, " I replied.

"Oh, are we a doctor?" she answered as the smile left her face.

"No, I am not a doctor, but I do have extensive knowledge of the skeletal structure," I answered.

"If that knowledge didn't come from medical school I suggest you leave the diagnostics to a licensed physician," she replied in a condescending tone.

"My knowledge came from the dojo where I train, but I am still right," I replied enjoying the angry look on her face.

I had forgotten that some medical professional hate it when laymen use their language. I had also forgotten to inform her that I had received a similar injury to my left foot a year or so ago and had never forgotten the term the doctor had used to describe my injury. 

As I gave her my personal information, I happened to glance around the room and saw the pleasant face of a middle-aged Japanese doctor that had heard my interaction with this nurse. He had a smile on his face and summoned an orderly to place me in a wheelchair and wheel me to x-ray that was just down the hall from the ER.

I was returned to the ER to wait for the x-ray film to be developed.  As I waited, the triage nurse appeared and had me sign some paperwork.

As she was standing next to the wheelchair, the smiling doctor stepped out of the door of the x-ray room. He was holding my x-ray film in his hands and held up the black coloured film and waved them in my direction.

"Mr Count," he said in a loud voice from the end of the hallway. "One hundred percent correct diagnosis. Non-displaced fracture of the fifth metatarsal."

"See? I told you so," I said to the nurse. 

She gave me an angry look and walked into her office and slammed the door. The doctor was still smiling as he had me jump up onto a table and tape my foot.

"You really learn in a dojo?" he asked.

"Not really. I had a similar injury to my left foot and never forgotten the term the doctor had used," I informed him." Sometimes I like to be a wiseass".

The doctor laughed so hard he was forced to stop taping my foot until it subsided. He then showed me how to tape the foot myself as we talked about martial arts for about half an hour. Seems in his youth he followed the same discipline I do.

As I left the building to head for home, the smiling doctor appeared at the desk of the triage nurse.

"Good night, doctor," he said in a loud voice from his place next to her.

She gave him a dirty look and exited the room. This caused the doctor to double over with laughter again.

As I type this, I realize it's not as funny in the printed form. But I hope you enjoy it anyway.