We have a lot of college professors in our neighborhood--some active, some retired. I count 17 in 44 houses. One of them lives next door, one lives directly across the street and one lives next door to the across-the-street professor. This is a story of one of the three.
This fellow was on a mission in German a long time ago. Missionaries in our church serve for two years, but when he went out, foreign missionaries served for two and a half years. While he was on his mission he got a horrible sinus infection. He couldn't breathe through his nose and finally decided to get help. He and his companion drove to a large city--instead of going to a local doctor--to go to a university medical school. He thought he would get better service from a professor.
He had an appointment and went in to see the doctor. He laid out his symptoms, it was obvious, he couldn't breathe. The doctor was sitting at his desk, he stood up and said, "Come over here."
The young missionary went to stand by the doctor. The doctor reached in a desk drawer and removed an ice pick and before the missionary could react the doctor grabbed the missionary's head and drove the ice pick up his nostril, all the way to the bone. No operating room. No sterilized instruments. Probably no sane doctor.
"There," said the doctor. "It'll drain now."
So help me the missionary said he was afraid the ice pick was going to go straight to his brain. "There is only about a quarter inch of bone between my brain and my sinus cavity," he said.
Then he took a deep breath and said, "I've never had a sinus problem since." (I don't think I would either--out of pure fear.) "And my bill was two dollars."
I tell you, I am surrounded by interesting people with interesting stories. You should come and sit on the lawn swings some night. You would be entertained, no end.