I know this is an old thread, but I'm so glad I found it -- these stories are hilarious! Okay, I've done plenty of stupid things at clinical, and I'm sure once I start working I will do many more. But for the time being, this is my best so far. I was in my last semester of nursing school, and we had a rotation in an ED. I had missed the orientation to the ED, because I was pulled and given the opportunity to spend our first morning in the psych ED. It was cool, but then I spent the rest of the day feeling like a bit of a dolt, because I had to keep asking my colleagues where thing were, what the codes were, where to put things, and other stuff they'd learned during the ED orientation. Anyway, I had a bedpan to deal with, and a friend saw me and offered to show me what to do with it, since she knew I was still figuring things out. I followed her to this tiny little utility-type room, which has a receptacle for urinals, another for bedpans, a dirty linens cart, biohazard garbage, etc. -- just the room where all the nasty stuff goes, I guess. In addition to all the other stuff I mentioned, there was this odd sink/toilet hybrid thing. It was a large, waist-high porcelain sink, with faucets, handles, a hose, and just a bunch of plumbing and such on the wall behind/above it. It also had two foot pedals an inch off the floor, and instead of a drain, it looked like a toilet on the bottom of the basin, and it flushed like one as well. So I'm just looking at this thing, glad that my friend offered to come with me. I went ahead and turned on the faucet, rinsed out the bedpan, and turned the water off, just like a normal sink, then asked my friend how to flush it. She was doing something else behind me, and told me to step on the middle pedal. I look down, and I only see two pedals. So I gestured toward the one closest to me and said, "There are only two; should I press this one?" and she says, "Yeah, the middle one." I'm thinking, "What middle?" but rather than continuing to go back and forth like some weird version of "who's on first," I figured I'd just step on the one I was referring to, because what's the worst that can happen if it's the wrong one? It's just a sink/toilet thing, and it will either flush, or water will come out of the faucet -- no problem, right? So feeling brave, I step on the pedal, and all of a sudden it's raining. Torrential downpour, inside the hospital. (That's what it seemed like to me, for a split second, anyway.) I was getting hit with water from all directions, and eventually realized that among all the pipes and tubing behind the basin, there was a handheld shower hose thing, which was in its holder, facing the ceiling -- and water was shooting out of it with a mad fury, ricocheting off the ceiling, plumbing, and walls, and getting all over my poor friend and me. My friend says, "Turn it off, turn it off!" but I can't because I don't know how. Then I realized that I could at least take the hose handle down from its holder and aim it into the basin (or anywhere other than the ceiling), then work on figuring out how to turn the water off -- but the spray was too strong for me to get close enough to the hose handle. So without even thinking about what I was doing, I shoved the bedpan out in front of me and into the main stream of water, like some kind of a shield, so I could at least get close enough to reach the hose thing without taking water directly into my face (any more than I already had, anyway). Of course, now water is spraying out of the bedpan and onto my arms and heaven knows where else; I had already rinsed out the bedpan, but still. So gross. By the time I was finally able to get a hold of the hose handle, the water shut off as suddenly as it had started, and I just stood there, mortified, like a wet deer in headlights. Fortunately, my friend wasn't as drenched as I was, since I was between her and the sink/toilet. To her credit, she helped me dry the entire room with towels, and didn't make me feel any worse about it than I already did (although, when I later went to confess to my instructor, she cut me off with, "Yeah, I already heard all about it."). After we got the room sorted, my friend asked me which pedal I had pushed, and I showed her. She goes, "That's not the right one. [Ya think??? Hahaha!] It's the one in the middle." So finally, I just looked at her and said, "Seriously, what middle are you talking about?!? There are only two pedals!" She walks over to where I had been standing the entire time, and says, "Oh. You can't see it from here." So we both squat down, and under the sink, at least a foot high off the ground, was a third, and indeed, MIDDLE pedal. It was so high off the ground that you had to be several feet away from the sink in order to see it -- and obviously, I didn't. I felt like such a tool. But, there's a silver lining: my friend was the only witness, and I hadn't decided to forgo a tank top under my white uniform shirt that day.