There's too many choices

Today was a busy day. Too many patients, too few nurses, dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria! I tried my best to explain to these nitwits...er...physicians, who should know by now, that when I say we are understaffed that means no increasing/repeating of whatever induction agent the patient is on and no breaking anyone's water. (Which, technically, can be condsidered an induction, I don't care if she is a primip!) Luckily, when these egocentric gargoyles want to fight me on it, I can now turf them to my charge nurse. Because charge nurse is no longer in my job title, so sod off! The point I'm struggling to make is that we were busy. So after getting one of my patients epiduralized up to her nippies, it was time to empty her bladder. Having seen all manner of anatomy, and the little variations that make us unique, in my 9 years of doing this joyous job, I no longer fear that I can't find a urethra. It doesn't enter my mind. Little women, huge women, perfect-nursing-school-bullseye-can't-miss-it, or labia swollen like Twinkies (nice visual there, huh?) I can get 'em. So it was very disconcerting today to be having no small amount of difficulty passing the catheter. I would swab and poke, swab and poke, and this went on for a minute or two before I realized it was her clitoris. Can't cath a clitoris; believe me, I tried! A little more traction and voila! Meatus discoverus! My only saving grace is that she was epiduralized so I didn't have to put up with this. My job is so cool.