The slipping or falling out of place of an organ (as the uterus)

Usage examples of prolapse.

Then they saw that the calf bed was pushed out of her, hanging against her back legs, high up beneath her tail, and there was one pink hoof protruded from the prolapsed uterus.

For the next hour, while the heifer stood panting and groaning they cleaned the prolapsed uterus and pushed it back inside of her and then sewed her up with heavy thread.

Chase did look down, and he saw, rising like a missile through the gloom, the yawning mouth and the prolapsed jaw of the great white shark.

It was no good telling him that I had seen five prolapsed uteri in pigs in my limited experience and had failed in every case.

Next morning I might have been inclined to dwell despondently on my chastening experience but I had a prebreakfast call to a cow with a prolapsed uterus and there is nothing like an hour of feverish activity to rid the mind of brooding.

We were dealing with a prolapsed umbilical and the placenta had torn away from the uterus wall.

A mongrel of whale-shark distended by biothaumaturgy to be cathedral-sized, varicellate shelled, metal pipework thicker than a man in ganglia protuberant like prolapsed veins, boat-sized fins swinging on oiled hinges, a dorsal row of chimneys smoking whitely.

Prolapsed uterusl Hard labour in cows, a pleasant exercise in ewes, impossible in sows.

The causes are tight lacing, prolapse of the abdominal organs, weakness of the supporting ligaments, and enervating habits.

Spotting, cramping, placenta previa, umbilical prolapse, spina bifida, and harelip-the list really was endless.

A mongrel of whale-shark distended by biothaumaturgy to be cathedral-sized, varicellate shelled, metal pipework thicker than a man in ganglia protuberant like prolapsed veins, boat-sized fins swinging on oiled hinges, a dorsal row of chimneys smoking whitely.

Next morning I might have been inclined to dwell despondently on my chastening experience but I had a prebreakfast call to a cow with a prolapsed uterus and there is nothing like an hour of feverish activity to rid the mind of brooding.

My grandmother often listened in when things were slow around the house, covering the mouthpiece with a hand and relaying to the rest of the room vivid accounts of colonic irrigations, prolapsed wombs, husbands who ran off to Burlington with the barmaid from Vern's Uptown Tavern and Supper Club, and other crises of small-town life.

At the back: weird ducts, mysterious prolapses of pipework, blank walls, fetid alleys.

Menopause had finally terminated her fantastically involved and complex relationship with her womb: a legendary saga of irregular bleeding, eleven-month pregnancies straight out of the Royal Society proceedings, terrifying primal omens, miscarriages, heartbreaking epochs of barrenness punctuated by phases of such explosive fertility that Uncle Thomas had been afraid to come near her—disturbing asymmetries, prolapses, relapses, and just plain lapses, hellish cramping fits, mysterious interactions with the Moon and other cœlestial phenomena, shocking imbalances of all four of the humours known to Medicine plus a few known only to Mayflower, seismic rumblings audible from adjoining rooms—cancers reabsorbed—(incredibly) three successful pregnancies culminating in four-day labors that snapped stout bedframes like kindling, vibrated pictures off walls, and sent queues of vicars, midwives, physicians, and family members down into their own beds, ruined with exhaustion.