Doctors and nurses are no strangers to seeing unusual findings on a person’s body, however, these tattoos on their patients did catch them off guard. Content has been edited for clarity purposes.
“She Was Nine Years Old”
“While working in ER (emergency room) this young woman came in and needed to be put into a gown. It was summer and she was wearing a long-sleeved turtleneck. I thought that was odd until she took it off and she had small homemade tattoos over her arms and torso. They went up to her neck and down both arms to her wrists. She then told me she had them down both legs to her ankles. She said her mother had married an aspiring tattoo artist when she was nine years old, and he needed to practice. She was a blank canvas, and her mother allowed him to tattoo this child. He wasn’t allowed to touch her face, hands, or feet, but the rest of her was used. She was covered in these ugly blue tattoos. She hated them and that is why she always wore long-sleeved shirts. I felt so sorry for her. She said she was a person who would never have gotten any tattoos. If people saw them, she was always prejudged.”
It All Made Sense
“One weekend of many years ago, we had a rock concert festival weekend in our city that was an annual event at the time. So we knew to expect more drinking and illegal activity-related visits to the hospital than usual.
One patient came in around noon on that Saturday before these patients would usually be expected as it was typically not a problem until the evening hours or past midnight. But this one had clearly started imbibing rather heavily that morning and had reached such a severe level of intoxication that he needed to be intubated so we could provide ventilatory support.
This patient was an achondroplastic dwarf or ‘little person.’
When we removed his clothing to provide for his medical needs, we all noticed this large tattoo across his abdomen: ‘Dwarf with an attitude!’
And I guess he proved it.”
“The Female Anesthesiologist Was Staring Wide-Eyed”
“I worked for a surgeon who had his own stand-alone surgery center. I was 25 years old at the time. We had a hernia case scheduled and the guy was in his mid-30’s, very muscular, and quite clean-cut and attractive. The patient care tech called out sick so I had to do the shaving of the surgical site.
When I lifted the gown, I quietly gasped in amazement. Not only was I face-to-face to his pecker, but this guy had the most amazing flame pattern tattoo over the entire length of his shaft. It was very intricate and brightly colored. I looked up and the female anesthesiologist was staring wide-eyed as well. I gathered myself and did my job.
After the surgery, we talked about it in amazement. We both agreed that it was quite the turn-on. About 10 days later, the guy was in the office for a follow-up. The doctor saw him and I took him his follow-up paperwork. He handed me a business card and on the back, it said ‘Call me some time.’
I had just gotten married a few months prior but put the card in my purse. I was fully intrigued by the thought of being with a beautifully tattooed man. I called him two weeks later and we did hook up at his place. In fact, I continued an affair with him for many more years.”
“Being The Sweetest Little Lady You Ever Met”
“My patient gave every appearance of being the sweetest little old lady you ever met. Her hair was snow white and drawn back in a bun. Her eyes were magnified by her specs until the color of her irises seemed to fill the space circumscribed by the gold wire of her frames like water fills a swimming pool.
As she walked down the hall, there were traces of the girl in early adolescence who had begun to develop a slightly slumped posture only to be tortured by a well-intended mother who constantly admonished her ‘GRACE!! STAND UP STRAIGHT!’
Ultimately her mother had won that one and stand up she did. The lesson taught some 70 years before had been well and permanently taught and learned yet, although no longer ashamed of her chest she was ever so slowly being bent forward by the constant forces of time, gravity, and osteoporosis into a posture of disobedience.
Every inch of her evoked memories of my own grandmother offering up a plate of warm cookies.
She explained she had had a cough for months and, only recently, had developed pain in her lower abdomen just above her pelvis which seemed to be aggravated by coughing. Handing her a gown I asked her to disrobe and stepped out of the exam room. Later, accompanied by a nurse, I returned to listen to her lungs and prod her stomach hoping to find some clue of the cause of her symptoms. Grace set there smiling as if the next few minutes were nothing new to her at all.
Physicians get to see tattoos, piercings, and other body art typically concealed from the general public. Some are works of art, others are simply bad jobs. Some reflect military service, membership in fraternities, or the names of current or previous loves. Some denote gang affiliations or have served prison sentences; to the initiated these can be read as one might read hieroglyphics – which gang, how many years in prison, men (or women) killed. Some tattoos, though, require no interpretation. So it was with Grace.
‘Ink’ is rightly regarded as permanent but is definitely not. Over decades ink fades and diffuses through the skin so that the sharp line drawn twenty years ago becomes a faded, wider, fuzzy thing. Of course the canvas – human skin — becomes stretched and wrinkled. After 60 years tattoos frequently resemble large smudges reminiscent of a pen-and-ink drawing on tissue paper which has been repeatedly wadded up, soaked in water, then opened back up and allowed to dry. So it was with Grace.
Only recently do women have tattoos or, at least, have many. As a medical student, I was taught: ‘A woman with more than one tattoo has a positive serum test for syphilis until proven otherwise.’
Reflecting that multiple tattoos denoted promiscuity of either an amateur or professional nature.
Beneath her long-sleeved dress Grace was covered with ink. These were not high-quality professional tats but appeared to have been either self-applied or, at the very least, by a non-professional. They had been done with what looked like the dark blue ink of the type my grandfather used to ‘brand’ cattle’s ears. Grace’s ink, unfortunately, had not faded enough and, if you were over the age of twelve and could read English, required no deciphering. Curved above her chest were the words ‘Sweet’ and ‘Sour’. Across the lower abdomen and on the inside of her thighs arrows pointed the way and were accompanied by written instructions. Three arrows clearly denoted what was expected of the man who had reached that point. Crude drawings of male and female bodies and a couple in the act of putting them to good use covered her abdomen.
Doctors learn, or at least try to learn, how to maintain a deadpan expression to cover their inner thoughts about what a patient says or does. Sometimes we succeed; sometimes not. I worked hard to do keep my jaw from dropping and to act as if grandmothers decorated with obscenities were an everyday occurrence in my practice. Grace did the same not mentioning the markings. It was as though between us Grace and I had agreed that what we both clearly saw was not there.
Mentally I calculated that she had been a young woman during the 1920s and must have been one of the reasons that it roared. People can and do change and, even if she had not it was not my place to judge but this woman had presented me with a jarring dichotomy between the patient’s presentation and her past so clearly and carefully documented on the canvas of her skin.
A few more pokes and prods, some blood work, and a chest x-ray and she was ready to go to with a diagnosis of bronchitis and abdominal pain resulting from coughing. She smiled sweetly, offered her thanks, and then walked down the hall on her shoes with the one-inch block heels clutching the strap of her large black purse in her left hand. She was wearing a long-sleeved dress covered with blue flowers which matched her eyes and hid a few secrets.”
Yikes! He Was A Principal
“As I hooked a man up to an EKG (electrocardiogram), he had a lacy bra tattooed on his chest. He said because of this he had to go out of town to get treatment as he was a principal at a school and couldn’t risk anyone knowing.
He said it was done when he got wasted in the army. I often wonder if this was really the story.”
“Who Is Big Red?”
“Many years ago, I had a ‘motorcycle mama’ come into the ER complaining about ‘female’ problems. I ride a Harley but this woman’s appearance was the stereotypical ‘motorcycle mama’ with the leathers, tattoos, and unkempt hair.
After I got her ready for the pelvic exam, the doctor got to work while I stood in as ‘good nurse’, ready to hand him things position. He looked at me and motioned me to look at what he saw. There, in big bright red letters was the tattoo going up the inside of her thigh to her ‘lady parts’.
It said, ‘PROPERTY OF BIG RED’ with an arrow pointing up.
We maintained our cool, then the doctor asked, ‘Who’s Big Red?’
She replied, ‘My old man.’
Unfortunately, she then started to cry because he was no longer with her but with someone else.”
His Own Experience At A Doctor’s Office
“My father followed in my uncle’s footsteps and joined the National Guard after his high school graduation. My dad and all the other newbies were assigned to a Mr. Universe type Sergeant. He was built like a brick house, solid as a rock.
When he went in to take his shower, someone caught a glimpse of his tattoo. It was a cat on the side of his upper leg running towards his butt cheek and a mouse on the back of the guy’s butt cheek running for the mouse hole. Word spread quickly and of course, everyone wanted to see it but no one wanted to get caught looking.
The times were different. This was in 1960 or 1961 and in the United States. This was a time when usually tattoos were mainly on circus performers, hardcore bikers, and military people. For solider, getting a tattoo while stationed overseas, showed foreigners your pride in your family and country.
So for an average teenage boy who didn’t have a ton of exposure to tattoos back in the late fifties to early sixties, and seeing a tattoo on the first day of the military by none other than their Sergeant, they wanted to see it. However, because of where it was located, the newbies’ only way to see it was when the guy was showering. Everyone was afraid to look, but not me.
I wasn’t afraid, I’ve had worse things happen to me. I’ve had close friends betray me, and girlfriends only date me because I was a ‘nice boy’ yet I still tried to help them any way I could. Which they would quickly take advantage of and start using me. Even my parents lost my respect a couple of times so you can say at the time, I had been having a run of bad luck.
Anyways, one day, I got home from work and decided to fix a sandwich. I happened to glance over at the corner of the counter and there was the wood block with the cleaver, the ones that look like regular steak knives except larger and the giant two-pronged, pointy fork. And then the lightbulb hit me.
I jumped in the shower, wrapped the one that looks like the oversized steak knife in a tea towel, and went to my tattoo guy. I told him that I’ve been stabbed in the back so many times I might as well have a knife in my back. I wanted it in the same area as my heart but I already had something there so we picked a little lower. It’s the handle part of the blade, ripped skin, and a little blood running down with a couple drops a little below that. It’s great, especially when I go to doctor’s appointments.
When they ask to lift your shirt so they can listen to your heart, they always pause when they see my tattoo.
I’ve had someone ask, ‘May I ask why you got that one?’
I’ve had that look like they want to ask but they don’t want to come off as nosy or rude. It’s been the same with different girlfriends when they saw me with my shirt off for the first time. Some won’t say anything but will start looking at all of my tattoos and even ask if I have more. I did it because it was meaningful to me at that time of my life but the comments and looks have made it even more enjoyable. However, the most original I’ve ever seen was in a tattoo magazine. A woman had herself neatly groomed down south but on the top corner, she had a horizontal, rectangular, section missing from the perfect triangle. It was an area that was two or three inches across that she shaved so it looked like a small section missing. In that area where she had it shaved was a tattoo all done in black. It was a stick figure pushing a lawnmower. The lawnmower was mostly outlined but had enough added so that you knew it was a mower. Then behind the stick figure pushing the mower was three or four little marks/lines and it gave the appearance of a couple of pieces of cut grass shooting out from behind the mower.”
A Beloved Cartoon Character
“As a nurse on a post-surgery acute care floor, I had a rough-looking lady get admitted after having an emergent appendectomy after it ruptured. She had a wonderful array of ink all over her body. The tattoo that impressed me was words that arced from the left side of her lady parts over the mons to the right side of it.
It read, ‘MONEY MAKES ME HAPPY.’
Another time, there was a kind, warm, and friendly woman who had three kids come to visit her with a husband dressed in business formal attire. It was her only tattoo. Her tattoo was located just below her stomach. It was a small but brightly colored tattoo depicting Wilma Flintstone on her knees ‘pleasuring’ Fred.
Note: I discovered both tattoos as I was removing a catheter from each patient.”
Funeral Preparations
“I was working as a hospice nurse. I had a 74-year-old male patient that was dying from mouth and throat cancer. He and his wife were very pleasant and I enjoyed getting to know them both. When his day of passing came, I was notified and made my way to their house.
When a patient passes, we have to prepare the body for the funeral home to come to a d pick them up. I was responsible for changing his clothes and cleaning him up. When I got to his groin area, I was shocked when I saw the word ‘shorty’ tattooed there. I am sure my reaction showed on my face, as his wife got very tickled.”
“When Tattoos On Women Were Not As Common”
“Now this was back in the 1970′s when tattoos on women were not as common as they are now.
I was going to a hospital room to get a patient up and walk her after surgery the day before. This was a young female soldier. Our routine was to assist the patient to sit on the side of the bed, get them a robe, assist them up, and help them walk.
While assisting her to sit on the side of the bed, I noticed she had a small head of a lion tattooed on her left shoulder. While assisting her to stand, I commented it was a nice tattoo.
She asked me if I really liked it, to which I said ‘yes’.
She then said, ‘Let me show you my horse.’
Then she pulled open the back of her gown, and there, from one butt cheek to the other was a huge horse tattoo.
She said, ‘When I walk, it moves.’
“She Didn’t Seem To Be The Tattoo Type”
“A young lady came in with a finger she had sliced open cleaning something at the gas station/convenience store she worked at. Company policy and her manager dictated she go to the ER. Mind you, there was no reason for her to disrobe and she didn’t seem to be the tattoo type.
We cleaned the wound and when the doctor came in, he determined she needed two stitches to close it clean and reduce scarring.
It took three hours for two stitches, all because of the needle. She didn’t like needles and didn’t want it. The shots they give to numb the finger, one on each side, wore off and we had to wait and do it again. She raised chaos over the needles. Finally, the doctor could get the stitches before the numbing shots wore off again. I had to sit on the other side, holding that hand, talking to her, and maintaining eye contact so she didn’t look over at the needle.
While I was chatting with her waiting for her discharge paperwork so I could clean the room and reset it, she noticed the tattoo on my forearm and asked if it was what she thought it was. I somehow distracted her. I try to keep my tattoos covered when I work but that one is hard when the uniform is short sleeve. They all mean something, nothing bad but they have a meaning behind each and I earned them all.
She asked if I wanted to see her tattoo. I figure since she didn’t like needles, maybe she got a dot as an experiment as a kid. Or maybe she went to get one and the artist inked the needle for the test line and she was calling that a tattoo or something.
I replied, ‘Sure.’
She just started pulling off her clothes so I looked away. When she was done ‘stripping’, she got my attention again and said she had enough off, so I could see the whole thing. Wondering what the heck could she be showing me, I looked back at her.
Her top and bra were off and her pants were lowered to just below her hip. Yes, she needed to remove that much clothing if she wanted me to see the whole thing. Three hours for two stitches, yet this woman had a full back from just below a collar level on the spine at the highest point of the ink down and onto her tail bone and across the tops of her butt cheeks that wraps around her body between the armpit and hip that extended on the sides and tops of her chest, down her cleavage and crossing her abdomen extending below waist level to a more sensitive area of some kind of fantasy scene with dragons, (huge diving dragon being the majority of the back panel) sorcerers, and horses and such.
I was stunned into silence. She just looked at me until I spoke and all I could come up with was, ‘Three hours for two stitches, how the heck did you sit still for that?’
Yes, I broke composure and cussed.
Naturally, the answer was, ‘I was wasted at every session.’”
“We Were Young And Dumb”
“As a nurse, I was caring for an elderly woman. As I was helping her bathe I noticed a faded nickel-sized circular tattoo mid-sternum that said ‘DNR’.
She told me she was a hippie in the 70s. As part of the women’s rights movement, she and a group of her friends decided to get this tattoo vowing to be in control of their bodies until their death. Unfortunately, this tattoo doesn’t count as a legal ‘Do not Resuscitate’ order.
She joked, ‘What did we know, we were young and dumb. But we sure got a lot of attention when we wore our little crocheted tops and bikinis!'”
This One Made Him Never To Get One
“We had an 80 something little woman who was admitted to our ICU (intensive care unit) in a small rural hospital. I was helping her change clothes into a gown. I noticed some ink markings on her upper left buttock and couldn’t figure out what it was so I eventually asked her.
She turned around smiling and replied, ‘It’s a saying of some kind. It was big in the 1930s and 1940s.’
I said, ‘I didn’t realize ink could fade like that.’
She said, ‘It didn’t fade. When it was done, it was on my shoulder.’
I looked again and made a conscious decision to NEVER get a tattoo. Anytime people speak of tattoos I can still see that one on the buttock that started out on the shoulder! I had no idea how much traveling a tattoo could do over the years!”