Tales from the ICD is a series where we, the committee who brought you the International Classification of Diseases and Health Problems, dig deep into our archives to share patient stories from around the world. Some of our codes may seem silly but remember: if there’s a code for it, it's happened to at least one guy. Today, we tell the tale of Code V97.33XA: Man Sucked into Jet Engine.

Eugene Millhouse, a 75 year old farmer from Portsmouth, Ohio, spent his life pursuing the miracle of human flight. Unfortunately, at a young age, he realized he was terrified of airplanes. He had to figure out his own way to command the skies. He went through several failed ideas: strapping giant feathery wings to his arms, attaching a propane tank to his backpack, and imbuing a red cape with Krypton, all of which crashed and burned no higher than a few feet from the ground.

On one spring day, as he sat in his lab and watched his pet gerbils scamper in their cages, an idea struck him. Wings with adjustable slats that would flap up and down in response to the wind, creating a pressure gradient and allowing him to fly upwards. This machine would be powered by the electricity produced by a dozen gerbils fervently spinning in their wheels. 

On March 10, 2024, he presented the wings to a crowd of his screaming fans, mostly composed of ironic hipsters from various neighboring cities. 

“This is a groundbreaking moment for aviation,” said Wilbur, Eugene’s brother, weed dealer, and parole officer. “If we can create a sustainable method of flight without relying on an oligopoly of airline companies, that goes a long way forwards curbing unchecked capitalism. And that'll be 60 bucks.”

Gerbil breeder and totally normal guy Shubh Ramaswamy was thrilled at the potential of this invention. 

“We are at the start of an energy revolution! I’ve been telling people for years that gerbils are the next big breakthrough. These little buggers can really run.”

Local vet and pediatrician Dr. Jerrod Jackson was a little more skeptical. 

“I know gerbils. They’re basically the same as a fresh 26 weeker. No way they can generate that much electricity”

Eugene and his gerbils stood on the precipice of greatness, looking over the crowd. He took a deep breath, leapt into the air and, much to his surprise, began soaring upward! As he flew, however, he realized two things in rapid succession. One, after many years of bumpy landings and bruised egos, he had finally succeeded in his dream of flight. Two, he never thought about how he was going to get back down. He was actively flying too close to the sun. There was only one solution - wait for his hamsters to tire out then use his backup parachute to gently glide back to safety. 

His altitude crept up to 35,000 feet. A Boeing 737 jet appeared suddenly from the clouds. The suction force of a jet engine was no match for Eugene’s gerbils. He was sucked in like a booger into a hand vac. Miraculously, the blades of the engine narrowly missed all of his vital organs and he ended up with simply a nasty slew of papercuts. He sat in the engine as they made an emergency landing at the nearest airport. 

From the airport, he was brought into Our Lady of Korean Jesus Community Hospital Emergency Room. The doctors were flabbergasted. How were they going to bill for this? How does simply coding this event as W26.2 for a papercut, W50.4 for a scratch, or even V97. 0XXA for other unspecified air transport accidents come close to capturing the events of the evening? 

At the ICD10 headquarters, a comically large red phone went off, where the hospital CEO spoke with the on-call committee member about what had happened. That night, our committee held an emergency meeting and Code V97.33XA was born.