And then there was one

Graci just called. When I told her I was blogging, she said, "About the testicle? Are you blogging about the testicle? When are you going to tell them about the testicle?"

"I'll tell them about the testicle," I said.

So, here's the deal...Graci lost a testicle at work.
When I first read that status update on her Facebook page (yes, she put that on her Facebook page, and it immediately became the best reason to have Facebook), I thought maybe it was a metaphor for something--a way of saying she had a particularly bad day. An odd way of saying it, to be sure; but nonetheless, that's what I thought she meant.

It turns out, she was being literal. She really lost a testicle. She was doing an autopsy on a guy (I suppose that last detail was probably assumed by readers with even the most rudimentary knowledge of human anatomy) when she suddenly lost a nut.

"There were two of them, sitting right there next to the sink, and then I looked...and there was only one! I looked all over for the other one, but I couldn't find the damn thing anywhere. It must have gone down the drain."

"So, let me get this straight...you're at an ivy league pathology program, and you people are accidentally rinsing body parts down the drain?"

"Yeah. Pretty much. Worst part is, this guy had one of those weird religious beliefs about how you have to be buried whole. I just picture him wandering in circles for all eternity, looking for his lost ball. One nut shy of heaven. "

"And to think, this is one of the best pathology programs in the world. Imagine the stuff they must lose at second rate programs."

"Seriously."

"Are they making fun of you at work now?"

"All day. Every day."

"As is only appropriate, you know."

"I know."