There was a little shit of a Buck sergeant in the 173rd AHC motor pool at Lai Khe who used to mess with me every time I took the jeep from the medical detachment down to the motor pool to pull preventive maintenance.  He did it just because he could.  I told him on more than one occasion that at some point he would have to come to the dispensary, and when he did, his ass was mine.  He just blew me off and continued to mess with me.

A few months later, he walked into the dispensary with a silly grin on his face, looked at me and started looking around for someone else to deal with his problem.  Having told all the other medics that he was mine when he came in, and the reason behind it, they just looked at me as if to say  "Well Doc,  what do you want to do?"

I said, in a loud voice, " Well, guys, it looks like it's chow time." They all looked at me, smiled at the sergeant , and walked, en mass, out the door.  I asked the poor dear what his problem was and he said that he would come back later.  I told him that it didn't matter when he came back, he was still going to have to deal with me.  He realized the truth of what I was telling him, and sucking it up because he figured I couldn't do him TOO much harm, he told me that he thought he had a case of the clap (otherwise known as Gonorrhea ). 

I told him to haul out his penis and skin it down.  He did, and the most putrid looking green pus was hanging off the end of his penis.  Now I could have tested the substance that was there, but I got out a wooden Q-tip, stuck it about three inches up his urethra and twisted it around some.  You should have seen the look on his face!!  I pulled it out and proceeded to test it, and by golly, he DID have the clap. 

Well, we were using procaine penicillin at the time to treat the clap and it had to be kept refrigerated.  The usual procedure was to take it out, rub it between our hands to warm it up (because it was a thick viscous substance when cold),  otherwise it would cause the cheek of the patient's derriere  to go into spasm,  and with a deft motion as if throwing a dart, plunge it into the upper outside quadrant of whichever cheek of the Gluteus Maximus  we decided to use, and inject the penicillin. 

I had never before abused my position as a medic to cause anyone intentional pain and suffering, but I decided to make an exception in his case given the bad blood between us.  I told him to drop his drawers and bend over the counter, took the penicillin out of the refrigerator, tapped the point of the needle on the counter two or three times so that
the point of the needle was at a 45% angle, and slowly screwed that sucker into his ass. 

When the needle was all the way in, I shoved that plunger fast, emptying all of that cold penicillin into his Gluteus Maximus.  He howled.  I told him to come back the next day and we would do it again as it took three days of those treatments to resolve the problem.  He came back for the next two days, we went through the same procedure, and he never messed with me again. 

While I never became friends with that sergeant, I did develop a grudging respect for the way he came in and took his medicine so to speak. 

The moral of the story, and one which most people learned early on, is don't piss your medic off, you never know when you will have need of his services, and the terrible things that a medic can do is only limited by his imagination.