I agree with Canoehead!! My husband has a queasy stomach, and a sensitive dispostion, which basically means that I am responsible for all roach-capturing in the house, and that I cannot under any circumstances say the words placenta, lochia, cervix, node, phlegm, mucous, or secretion within fifty feet of his ears. Luckily, my mother is a nurse, so you can probably guess that the bulk of our time on the phone is spent cackling wildly and trading stories, both of us speaking that special Nurse-ese fluently and with total abandon. ;>) My husband, if he is nearby, is a victim to this, but after three years (two in nursing school, one as an actual nurse) he is actually starting to come around. I stuck a sterile, brand new IM needle through my finger the other night- it went clear through my squishy flesh and right out the other side, barely missing the bone (mere millimeters!) and this story, replete with dripping blood and everything, managed to captivate him for oh...about a minute...but the more I begged him to look at the holes, the more green he got until I finally gave up. I am also in the habit of running and chasing him around the apartment screaming things like, 'Blood clots the size of navel oranges!' and 'Strings of blood tinged mucous eight inches long!' while he trys, without success, to find a place to hide. One of his friends has a thing for nurses, and is more than entertained by my using big medical words, so when my hubby threatens to leave me (in jest...don't misunderstand!) I always tell him that his friend would be more than happy to have me whispering "...mmm...amniotic fluid..." in his ear. That usually shuts him up. ;>P Canoehead is on the money- gather a group of nursing friends, all with stomachs of cast-iron, grab a couple of margaritas, and let it all out. You'll feel much better. Do this once a month and your problem is solved. In a pinch, read some of our threads on gross or yucky wounds in nursing, and meet said girlfriends as soon as humanly possible.