Doctor-turned-comedian dishes on some of the unbelievable things he witnessed working Christmas shifts

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Accidents, births, deaths — they happen all year round, including on the holidays.

Adam Kay knows this all too well. Before becoming an author and comedian, he worked as a doctor for seven years, and spent many Christmases in the hospital. 

Kay has just published his second medical memoir, T'was the Nightshift Before Christmas, and he told The Current's guest host Nil Köksal about some of the hilarious and horrifying stories he witnessed on those holiday shifts.

Here's part of their conversation.

Of all the difficult and sad places to be during Christmas, a hospital I would put very, very high on a list. But what is it really like to spend that holiday with people who are ill?

To be honest, it's often extremely busy. You forget what day of the year it is. 

There's a lot more alcohol consumed. So there's an uptick in things like objects in orifices and all that sort of stuff. 

Alcohol not consumed by the doctors. Let's underline that.

Oh, yeah. Ideally just by the patients.

But I worked in obstetrics and gynecology. I worked on labour wards. And, you know, babies don't really care if it's December the 25th or March the 25th. They're just still going to come out. 

Describe what it was like on that very first [time you worked on Christmas]. You're a new doctor. You land on this very difficult day to work. 

My first Christmas was actually reasonably memorable. Because much like babies don't care what day of the year it is, nor does the Grim Reaper.

And I found myself sitting in a side room having, you know, "the chat" with a distressed family about their gran. And bad news is never easy to hear. It's never particularly easy to deliver either. 

So I was sitting down and explaining that granny was outnumbered by bacteria in her bloodstream to the tune of several billion to one, and there was only one way this could end.

And I was fairly new at breaking bad news, but I knew the sort of things to do, sort of, in terms of the language you use. And I was leaning forward to, I don't know, show empathy. 

And as I leaned forward, I leaned on my tie, which was a seasonal tie. And underneath Rudolph's red nose — and then underneath the pressure of my elbow — was a button that activated a speaker to blast out a tinny rendition of Jingle Bells. 

Oh, no. 

And I was jabbing at my abdomen to try and stop it. But all I succeeded in doing is restarting the tune. 

So I eventually ran out to the nursing station and abandoned my tie. When I got back in the room, one of the daughters was in a laughing fit and everyone else was smiling. So maybe there is an easier way to deliver bad news after all. 

How relieved were you after that?

Very. I saw my medical licence flash before my eyes.

That's just one of the anecdotes that are in your book. It's full of them. One that stands out to me, and that I told about three people immediately after reading it, was the guy who wrapped himself in tinfoil as part of a Christmas dinner. What was that about?

Oh, yeah. So this is a guy who was going to a Christmas party and he decided to go as a Christmas turkey. So he got the tin foil and wrapped his arms, legs, torso and head and all of that, [made a] couple of eye holes and a mouth hole, and dispatched himself over to the party as a turkey. 

He hadn't run this costume past anyone with common sense, clearly, because he eventually collapsed, having dehydrated himself to the human equivalent of a cracker and ended up in my hospital for intravenous rehydration. So let that be a public service message to all listeners.

Yes. Definitely do not try that at home. I don't know why it would occur to you in the first place. Was he sheepish afterwards?

Yes, very much so.

Lots of patients, particularly when objects have appeared in places, tend to lie and sort of pretend it was an accident. But once you've — well, if you've covered yourself in tinfoil — there's no disguising what happened. 

You didn't just fall into a roll of aluminum foil. 

Is there an even more bizarre patient story that happened during your holiday shifts? 

Oh, goodness me. That's like asking me to choose a favourite child. 

I mean, there was a woman who took a string of fairy lights and put them internally and switched them on —

Oh, my.

— causing a series of internal burns. It brings new meaning to the phrase, "I put the Christmas lights up myself," I guess. And I mean anything from — I mean, fairies have gone up there from the top of the Christmas tree. Also candy canes.

Yeah. Things that you wouldn't [think] need a warning, need a warning, clearly.

Yes.

You know, people often say to their children about going to the doctor, "Don't worry, it's nothing he or she hasn't seen before." It sounds like that's kind of true.

Oh, it's absolutely true. So sometimes I'll be at an event and I'll read one of these stories and then afterwards I'm signing books or something and people say, "Oh, did that really happen with the fairy lights?"

But doctors never say that. Doctors come up to me after events and say, "That's nothing. Here's my top 10 mad things patients have decided that belong inside themselves." 

But yeah, never be embarrassed to speak to a doctor about something. It's not going to be the weirdest thing they've seen. It's not even going to be the weirdest thing they've seen that day, I can promise you. 

Written by Allie Jaynes. Produced by Howard Goldenthal. 

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.