either the surgeon (better known as “God”) barked the order so ferociously that the nurse in question dashed out, ran to the supply room, and started flipping through the Fs before the neurons fired correctly and reminded her exactly what a fallopian tube is.
OR
in relating the story to us kids (then in pre-teen/teenage years), Mom edited the story so that we stood a chance of cluing in to the punchline. Which we did, usually with a really offended-on-her-behalf “HEY!” Perhaps the surgeon had actually asked for a left-handed Circle of Willis or Hesselbach’s triangle.
And while this was still in the day of surgeon-as-God, it was also the day of career nurse = old battleax with attitude. Apparently, at some point, one of the doctors figured out the letter code on the assignment board that was used to warn nurses how much of a dickhead the assigned doctor was (DH0, DH1, . . . ). Some doctors were amused, some were chagrined, one was ticked off enough to complain to the chief of surgery, who gave him the time honored “Lieutenant, one does not fuck with the sergeants, or one dies a gruesome death” speech.
There was one doctor so infamous for his arrogance and condescension that when he mentioned he was considering putting a pond in on the back forty, and wanted to add some plants that would look nice, one of the nurses declared that what he really needed was a whole flock of white geese. Every other nurse on the floor agreed - they looked so graceful, they made such pleasant sounds, it would really make a statement.
And when I was in Scouts in the 80s and 90s in Cleveland, it was a “green left-handed smoke shifter” (if they asked, we told them that the green ones and red ones were made by different companies, and the green ones were superior). I’m amazed that the joke was so uniform across the country-- Maybe it spread at jamborees?
Noobies on fishing boats, ones out to sea for more than a few days, are often given the chore of standing lookout for the mail buoy. After I was initiated there, I was given the job of standing incinerator duty. THAT one was real, and warm! But my eyebrows raised when I first heard of it, given the previous day’s freezing, wasted wetness.
Mr. Tao adds that during his time as a prison guard, those in the towers would have newbies go look for a tower wrench to tighten up the bolts for when it got windy.
When I worked at Dunkin’ Donuts my supervisor once came in and said corporate announced we were going to start selling “Hertz Donuts.” I already knew that one so I just chuckled at her and said “Cool” or something.
Could one of you able seamen please post a link to some further explanation of this device called a “kelson” or “kilson”? I can’t find any other references to it, as described here, anywhere online. There is talk of a “keelson”, defined as “a timber or girder fastened above and parallel to the keel of a ship or boat for additional strength,” but that is not remotely related to the usage in this thread, which, if I’m not mistaken, refers to a fitting on the ship’s propeller. I don’t get it.
My mom, an ex-RN in her 70’s, loves telling the story of how they would give new nurses (in Medical ICU) pediatric/neonatal blood pressure cuffs and tell them to go and check a patient’s penile pressure. Great woman, my mom.
My first Boy Scout camp out, what was called a local “camporee”. Several troops in the vicinity, contests, et cetera. Sunday morning breakfast, I was asked to bring back a left-handed smoke sifter and a bacon stretcher.
Was eventually ‘loaned’ a soot-covered tin can with a small grill on top, and a coat hanger bent so that it could just plausibly enough hook both ends of a slice of bacon, keeping it ‘stretched.’ Still innocent, I brought it back to the cooks, then went to wash my hands. Well, no, I didn’t catch on immediately, but I do recall thinking it somewhat curious that they didn’t seem to need to use them for very long. As soon as I came back to the cook area, they said I could return the items.
Not a able body seaman, just a greasy snipe but the kelson is another name for the nut that holds the screw on the shaft. There may be a proper name, but I never learned it. I learned what the key to the kilson was as a 3rd class Midshipman. I had to bring a proper answer back to an upper classman before eating.
The gag at my camp (mid 60’s, San Diego, posted upthread) was that the victim would get to the commissary only to be told they only had the right-handed smokebender; the commissary at the next camp (quarter mile away at most) had the left-handed one, and off the little stooge would trudge.
After I was initiated there, I was given the job of standing incinerator duty. THAT one was real, and warm! But my eyebrows raised when I first heard of it, given the previous day’s freezing, wasted wetness. 
You’re right, both of those would fit very well