Dear Dr. S. of The Surgery in Kampala,
Our first meeting began like any other encounter between doctor and patient. You asked me what was wrong, and I explained that the gnarly warts on my toes were in dire need of medical attention. However, unlike a normal doctor, this did not prompt you to immediately attend to my bubonic feet. Instead, you proceeded to tell me about a "gay American Jew" afflicted with "a great fucking forest of anal warts." You and a colleague had been treating this poor man, cauterizing the warts with a hot iron, when one of the warts began to bleed substantially. You grabbed an alcohol pad to clean up the blood and sterilize the wound, but neglected to remove the cauterizing iron. The heat from the iron ignited the alcohol, causing a large explosion between the patient's buttocks. Locally anaestitized, the gay American Jew felt only a dull sensation around his cornhole. When he asked "what happened?" you and your colleague both exclaimed, "Nothing!" and returned to cutting down the forest.
To be sure, Herr Doctor, your story is hilarious. But appropriate for a first time meeting with a new patient? No.