Cruising with Dr. Grumpy, #3

(It’s Spring Break! We are taking advantage of recession rates to take our brood on a Mexican cruise. So you guys can now enjoy a week of relatively medical-free posts, with me blogging from the ship).

Tuesday

Okay, we were in Puerto Vallarta today. It's an improvement over Ensenada, as it doesn't have a large wreck half-sunken in the harbor (for those who care, the wreck in question is the S.S. Catalina. Due to financial mismanagement it somehow ended floating in Ensenada harbor a ways back. I first saw it, afloat but obviously rusty and abandoned, on my first cruise in 1993. On my 2nd cruise in 2003 it had partially sunk, and on my most recent cruise there in 2007 it was on the harbor bottom, though most of it was still above water, rusting away, and harboring a large colony of sea lions and their bodily wastes).

So we had a great view of the harbor. On one side of the ship is a beautiful view of boats and beaches. And on the other a Costco, Wal-Mart, and Sam's Club.

We watched as tourists jumped off the ship in droves, some hardly waiting for the gangplank. They looked like they were ready to use knotted sheets to get out of their portholes if need be. And where did they go? To the special sale at the Tanzanite Jewelry company? To the amazing deals on one-of-a-kind jewelry at the Diamond Import Wholesale Company? To the swim-with-dolphins tour? Fuck no. They all went to Costco, Wal-Mart, and Sam's Club.

This is a peculiar feature of Americans, the desire for the familiar after we've payed a fortune to get away from it all. We’ll go to some exotic locale halfway around the world to dine at a McDonald's or Starbuck's.

We were going to stay on the boat. Unfortunately, the cheap walkie-talkies we'd bought at Big Lots years ago no longer worked (if they ever did), and so we needed some. They don’t sell them on the ship. So I went to Costco, too.

It was sweltering. 95 degrees and 98% humidity. And through this muck I walked to Costco. Fortunately, due to the ease of my membership card and a credit card I bought the walkie-talkies easily, with no Spanish required. I was somewhat taken aback to notice they were $798, but then realized this was in pesos. I have no idea what the exchange rate was. The $2.50 hot dog special at home was $19 here, so I tried to convert that roughly, and am guessing I payed roughly $70-$90, but it's not like I was in a position to do comparison shopping, either. I just hope like hell I don't get my credit card statement in a month and find I really DID pay $798.

The "walk" signals on the streets are interesting. They feature a moving graphic of a man running, and the longer the signal is on, the faster he runs. I was hoping to see if a truck mowed him down when the light turned red, but was running through the intersection myself at this point.

A local brand of bread is Bimbo. I swear. So you see billboards and other signs with a picture of a pretty young woman holding a loaf of bread, and under that it says "Senorita Bimbo!"

So I got back to the ship. After lunch we lounged by the pool, had another lunch, and while the kids swam I futzed with the walkie-talkies. Several times male voices speaking Spanish cut in on our frequency. After a few minutes of this I summoned my vague knowledge of the language and said "Yo no tengo las enchiladas". Mrs. Grumpy was horrified, and threatened to kill me if I did it again.

The walkie-talkies opened up an interesting new world. There are only a finite number of frequencies, but a lot of people on board use them. So you end up unintentionally eavesdropping, like with a police radio. Odd snippets of conversation that drifted by as I read my book included, "Bill, did you pack the pliers?", "Jim was asked to leave the library, again" (no other details given, either), and "Suzy, I'm going to go change my tampon". Thank you all for sharing.

The kids have been attending the onboard Camp Cruiseline, and love it. One of the registration form's questions is whether or not they can swim and are allowed in the pools. In spite of this, they don't actually ever take them swimming! So why do they want to know, anyway? In case they fall overboard? "Hey Natasha, I think it was the Grumpy kid who fell off the railing. Go get their file to see if they can swim."

In the afternoon, after mini-golfing with the twins (they gave up on trying to watch Pokemon cartoons in Spanish in the room) I went to the shore excursion desk to ask about the swim with dolphin stuff. At that point the twins began loudly fighting over something, and so I asked the guy if they had any sort of "swim with sharks" excursion for children. He politely looked through a sheet of papers, then said no. Sheeesh.

At dinner tonight Frank ordered the chocolate melt cake. This is basically a partially baked chocolate cake with a gooey liquid center, surrounded in melting ice cream. When I glanced over I was horrified to see that here, in the main formal dining room, my child was eating it WITH A STRAW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I stopped him, and explained about manners, and told him not to eat his chocolate cake by sucking it through a straw. So instead he picked up the whole bowl and drank it.

It was getting about 9:30, and the S.S. Buffet was getting to leave dock. At this point one of the more puzzling announcements was made over the ship's PA system: "Attention, Mrs. John Smith, in cabin #1234. Please notify the purser's desk immediately if you have not yet returned aboard".

Why on Earth do the men’s rooms in the public areas have "do not put sanitary napkins in the toilet" signs in the stalls?

The night ended with Marie having so much free pop, juice, ice cream, and fun in evening Camp Cruiseship that she forgot to pee before bed. So while writing this I was startled by her sleep walking and urinating on the floor of our cabin. That was the only pair of her PJ's that we brought, too.

Cruising with Dr. Grumpy, #2

(We are taking advantage of recession rates to take our brood on a Mexican cruise. So you Grumpy fans can enjoy a week of relatively medical-free posts, with me blogging from the ship).


Monday. Still going in circles on the S.S. Buffet.

Apropos of absolutely nothing: 2 days ago we left our house for the drive to the airport. I was in charge of setting up the navigation gadget in the car. Our GPS system has a bad power cord connection which results in it randomly turning off. Mrs. Grumpy somehow discovered this was easily corrected by licking the connection head before hooking it into the doodad.

So I was pissing and moaning about the lack of enough Diet Coke for me to wake up, and was hooking up the GPS thing at the same time. In doing so I licked the power cable, unfortunately AFTER I'd already plugged it into the car and started the engine. So I took the voltage from a running car battery across my tongue. This definitely woke me up.

So anyway, we are still meandering aimlessly off Mexico, with several other floating hotels. Occasionally a freighter wanders by. I can only assume that the sight of cruise ships going in circles is (at least to freighter crews) a sign that you have almost reached the end of Mexico or the U.S. territorial waters, sort of like passing Ellis Island on the way to New York.

Tonight was the formal night to meet the captain. This is some odd tradition I've never understood, and I suspect it's not the highlight of the trip for him, either. Will Turner, one of Cunard's more legendary captains in the last century, once referred to the passengers as "a bunch of bloody monkeys". But my son Craig loved the idea of getting dressed up, and I learned it's the only time on the ship where the drinks are free. So we went, and I kept our waitress busy.

So the captain stands at the door, smiling, shaking the hand of everyone who wanders by, then moving on to the next person. Just behind him is an attendant with a large bottle of Purell.

Anyway, the captain then got on stage and gave his little speech ("Thank you for choosing Cruiseship Lines, good night"). Then the band began playing dance music, and invited anyone to come up and dance. I was working my way through yet another free drink when my right arm was torn from it's socket by 8 year old Marie, who just LOVES dancing.

So I got dragged on stage, and Marie went wild. The ship was rocking, the rum was kicking in, and we were at the front of a 2000 seat theater. Marie has an interesting dance style, which basically consists of jumping wildly about regardless of the music being played. And she wanted to dance every number. So half the audience thought I was a drunk Dad with a daughter who was either hyper, tone deaf, or seizing. The other half probably thought I was one of Warren Jeff's cousins on my honeymoon.

Afterwards we took the kids to tonight’s lounge show. They had warnings all over that parents should know the costumes would be "revealing". For the record, their definition of revealing was about as revealing as a 1957 woman's 1 piece swimsuit.

Gotta love it. The ship is covered with pictures and statues of nude men & women, you hang out by the pool watching college girls in thong bikinis made of dental floss, and they still want to warn you about the costumes at the musical show.

Marie also has developed a habit of looking out our cabin window with the partial view several times each day and solemnly announcing "we're moving". As long as the direction is horizontal and not vertical, I guess this is good.

And that's the way it is.

Cruising with Dr. Grumpy, #1

Hello Grumpy fans. It’s Spring Break! We are taking advantage of recession rates to take our brood on a Mexican cruise. So you guys can now enjoy a week of relatively medical-free posts, with me blogging from the ship.


Sunday.

Okay, we are somewhere off the coast of Mexico on the S.S. Buffet. At sea day. Was woken-up by my iPod alarm, which I’d forgotten to turn off. In a dubious sign, the shuffle feature randomly picked the theme from “Titanic” to wake me with.

The ship has a "fine art" theme. Copies of famous paintings and statues everywhere. Obviously, this includes some 16th-17th century nudes. So everywhere we went for the first few hours on board the kids would giggle and say "look! boobies!".

Dining room has a copy of Michelangelo's sculpture "David", so all 3 kids had to point out that you could see his winkie.

Our cabin has a "partial view". This means we have an excellent view of the side of an orange and white lifeboat. If you look downwards, though, you can see the ocean going by, but that's all you can see, no matter where you are. Even in port.

At one point Marie used the toilet, then wandered over to the window and told her brother Craig she could see her pee going away in the ocean. I swear.

Last night Camp Cruiseship had their welcome party in the single’s disco, which was closed to adults until 9. So me and the kids danced the Hoki-Poki and other popular numbers. Highlight was the occasional 20-something males and females who came by in their best "I came on this cruise to get LAID!" outfits, who hadn't read the door sign about the kids party. They seemed pretty damn horrified to see a bunch of parents and small children doing the Hoki-Poki in what they thought was the hot pick-up spot.

The singles' lounge, oddly, is decorated in a theme of famous torso's, like the statue of Venus de Milo. So every 10 feet on the wall are headless, armless, legless, male and female torsos, in bright pastel colors. And every table is held up on the neck of a headless torso, too. At one point we saw our oldest, Frank, fondling our table. Anyway, it looks odd. Like a room designed by an ax murderer.

(click to enlarge)




Is there some kind of law that requires cruise lines to always book 1 semi-demented toothless old guy who's been out in the sun way too long and has a remarkably bad collection of baseball caps? You know, ones that say "I got married for better or worse. I couldn't do better, and she couldn't do worse", or that have plastic dog poop on the brim. This is my 5th cruise, and he's on this one, too.

During dinner tonight the wait staff broke into a singing number, in which they twirled napkins over their head. So Marie did the same, knocking over a glass of water and hitting the girl next to her with a greasy napkin. I suspect that family will ask for better tablemates tomorrow.

Tonight I was lying in bed leafing through the nightstand book about Cruiseline, Inc., it lists brief profiles of all their top executives and captains. A number of the entries end with phrases like "he is married to Anna, a dancer he met while serving on the S.S. Overeat." After a while, I wondered if this is a corporate perk. "You did a great job, Lars. Here's your dancer".

Another odd feature of the book was the paid ads in it for places like Newport News Shipbuilding "where we perform maintenance and repair on all large vessels. Call us to schedule your’s" or some company that advertises "we're the world leaders in anti-fouling paint for ocean liners". If I owned my own cruise ship WTF would I be doing on this one, you bozos?


That's all for now.

Let the Buyer Beware

One of my afternoon patients today was a guy who had a seizure after he started taking "Chinese Weight Loss" pills he bought online.

So, trying to figure out what was in them, I asked him if I could see the bottle. Of course, the label is almost entirely in Chinese characters, so I couldn't read it. There was, however, a website in English, so I looked it up.

The site, however, wasn't any more helpful at finding out the ingredients. It was written in badly broken English (I can't believe people are being suckered into giving this site their credit card numbers).

Highlights from the site:

"Ingredientts: herBs that are good for yu."

"Side efects: If pills make yu sick, no take."

Modern Medical Miracles

Hi, Grumpy fans. Today's post concerns cutting-edge medical research, submitted by our Science Marches On Department in North Carolina.

Researchers have discovered that the gas that makes rotten eggs stink can also give you a woodie!

I am not making this up. They did studies involving rats and (I swear!) winkies removed from guys who had sex-change surgery.

In addition to the above, the last paragraph of the article includes a commentary by a Dr. Wang.

So, ladies, next time your man is underperforming, think about livening things up by filling the bedroom with rotten eggs!

This is a real article. Check it out!

Why am I here?

Okay, I just want to state that Alzheimer's is one of the more awful diseases I deal with, and the following post is not in any way trying to make fun of it. But sometimes the best you can do is see the humor in a bad situation.

So, last week: Mr. X is an elderly fellow who came in for the first time with his wife (who wasn't all there herself). Our conversation went round and round:

Dr. Grumpy: "What medications do you take?"
Mr. X: "The ones the doctor gives me."
Mrs. X: "We have them written down."
Dr. Grumpy: " Can I see the list?"
Mrs. X: "It's at home. I didn't know you'd need it."
Mr. X: "What list?"


and

Dr. Grumpy: "Do you still drive?"
Mrs. X: "Yes, he does. He drove us here today"
Mr. X: "I did?"
Mrs. X: "Yes."
Mr. X: "I thought you said we'd taken the bus."

and

Mr. X: "Which doctor are you?"
Dr. Grumpy: "I'm doctor Grumpy."
Mr. X: "Oh. (pause) I know that name. I think I have an appointment with Dr. Grumpy today. Is his office in this building?"

and

Dr. Grumpy: "What do you see Dr. Smith for?"
Mrs. X: "What kind of a doctor is he?"
Dr. Grumpy: "He's a cancer doctor."
Mr. X: "I have cancer?"

Huh?

From my first patient today. Unfortunately, he didn't give me any details beyond what I have here:


Dr. Grumpy: "What were you doing when you slipped off the ladder?"

Mr. X: "Trying to get my waterbed off the roof".




Inquiring minds want to know...

Hiding in Plain Sight, Apparently

One of my elderly dementia patients, who's a bit on the paranoid side, left this message on my office voice mail over lunch today:

“Hello? This is Mr. Jones. Is the doctor there? The police and my kids are chasing me, so I'm on the run and have gone into hiding. They'll never find me now, but I need help. Could Dr. Grumpy please call me back? I'll be at my house all day.”

No, That Isn't My Kid

Hi, gang. It's been a Girl Scout weekend.

Yesterday was my daughter's turn to hawk $4 boxes of cookies in front of a local grocery store. So your hero accompanied her, as Marie assaulted innocent, but cookie-less, people on their way into the place.

Some nice guy came over and said he didn't want any cookies, but gave us $20 and told us to give a box to the next 5 senior citizens who came out of the store. It was a kind thing to do. So I called Marie over, and explained it to her.

A minute later an elderly lady came out, and Marie attacked. She handed the woman a box of Thin Mints, and loudly said "Here! You win these cookies free, because you're really old!"

I tried to pretend I didn't know her, and wasn't successful.

Gross Me Out! Gag Me With a Spoon!

Saw this in the news, gang. A guy picked up for:

(drumroll, please) SEX WITH A CAR WASH VACUUM!

I have to say, that is just gross. I've cleaned some really horrifying crap out of my car with those things.

Another Helpful Hospital Tip

Okay, grumpy fans, I learned this today.

Here's another tip for my fellow physicians and anyone else who cares:

No good will EVER come from getting consulted to see a patient who's been in the ICU for 2 weeks before they call you, and who's initial chart note starts with: "Patient is an 81 year old male who attempted to rectally disimpact himself with his toothbrush."


And I'll leave the rest of this sad story to your imagination.

Pointless Phone Calls

Okay, gang, I was woken up this lovely Sunday morning by this message left at 3:45 a.m. on my after-hours office voice mail:


"Hello, this is Suzy X. I'm a patient of Dr. Grumpy's, and I wanted to
leave a message for he or his nurse, so this is it. Thank you."

Mr. Clueless

Okay gang, yesterday I had this discussion with a 30-something male:


Mr. Patient: "Hi, I'm Bob"

Dr. Grumpy (filling out a new patient chart): "Is that Bob or Robert officially?"

Mr. Patient (frowning): "Hmmm. I'm not sure. Let me call my Mom."


So he got out his cell phone and called his mother, to ask her.


To make you all feel safe, this guy is a security screener at the airport.