Fun on Rounds

Checking a cantankerous old guy's vision at the hospital today.

Dr. Grumpy: "What color is my hair, sir?"

Mr: Evenmoregrumpy: "You're a half-bald asshole!"


(for the record, Mrs. Grumpy says that's the correct answer)

Some Days It's Fun

Medicine is a serious business. I try not to take it too seriously (obviously), but it's the patients who come in with a great sense of humor who can make the job worthwhile.

Yesterday I was seeing an older couple, and we had a couple of great exchanges.


Dr. Grumpy: "And is this Mrs. Funpatient?"

Mr. Funpatient: "No, she's a hooker. I picked her up in your lobby."


AND


Dr. Grumpy: "Now that you've retired, what are you guys doing?

Mr. Funpatient: "We're training for a new hobby. We'd like to see a different doctor every day."


AND


(Mr. Funpatient completes reading off a long list of symptoms, in a silly fashion).

Dr. Grumpy: "Boy! You sure have a lot of complaints!"

Mrs. Funpatient: "Oh, he's awful, Doctor. Can he live with you?"

Okay, Then Let Me Talk to Her Janitor

Hospital phone call tonight:

Dr. Grumpy: "Hello, this is Dr. Grumpy."

Nurse Helpful: "Hi, Dr. Grumpy. I'm taking care of Mrs. Shakesalot. She just had a seizure."

Dr. Grumpy: "Does she have a history of seizures?"

Nurse Helpful: "I don't know. I'm just her nurse."

Great Deal! Call Today!

The real estate market here, like everywhere else, has tanked. It's damn near impossible to sell a house, which makes it even harder to buy another one if that's what you're trying to do.

So several local realty companies have been using the gimmick that if you buy a house from them, and can't sell your old one, they'll buy it from you.

This afternoon, on my way to a meeting, I passed a house that was obviously abandoned. Some windows broken, a front door hanging loose, graffiti, etc. It was obviously being used as a crackhouse, or homeless shelter, or teenage drinking hangout, or all of the above.

And in front of this wreck was a big sign from a realtor: "If you buy this house, I'll take your old one off your hands!"

More Strangeness

It's a full moon coming this weekend. Great. And I'm on call again.

Nothing seems to bring out the whackies and WTF's quite like a full moon. This isn't just my opinion, it's a fact. You can track it by ER data, police calls, etc. No one knows why. My guess is that it activates some primitive unidentified hormone, or cell group, or something, in our brains. Maybe related to the things that cause other animals to spawn, or howl, or whatever, when the full moon is out.

But I digress.

This afternoon an irate elderly lady called. My secretary is out, so my nurse and I are fielding the calls ourselves.

She chewed me out. "Dr Grumpy, my husband, Mr. Backpain, has been in the hospital for 2 days waiting to see you. Dr. Brilliantinternist is his regular doctor. Anyway, they're ready to discharge him home, but are still waiting for you to come say it's okay".

I told her I'd look into this. I hadn't received any hospital consults on this guy. Neither had my nurse. I even called my secretary at home. Nope, not her either. I listened to all 4 of the office's voicemail boxes to to see if something had been forgotten. Nope. Zip. Nada.

So I called Dr. Brilliantinternist to get to the bottom of it. I pride myself on seeing patients when called to do so, and it ticked me off that someone might think I was slacking off.

Dr. Grumpy: "Hey, Dr. Brilliantinternist, it's Ibee Grumpy"

Dr. Brilliantinternist: "Hi, Ibee. What's up?"

Dr. Grumpy: "A lady is calling saying I was supposed to see her husband, Mr. Backpain, at the hospital?"

Long pause.

Dr. Brilliantinternist: "He's not in the hospital. I just saw him here an hour ago."

Dr. Grumpy: "WHAT?!!! Why the hell is his wife calling me then?"

Dr. Brilliantinternist: "No idea. Sounds like SHE needs to see you, though. I'll have my secretary set it up".

Thank You for Calling

The following message was left on my office voice mail over lunch hour today.

"Yes, hello. I need either Dr. Grumpy or his nurse to call me back. When I left my house to go shopping my jigsaw puzzle wasn't completed. When I got home, however someone had finished it. So I need to know how to proceed. Thank you".

WOW! If I Drown, that Would be Great to Have!

Our Science Marches On Department, in North Carolina, has kindly brought the following product to my attention.

It's a portable computer for bicyclists, to help calculate speed, distance ridden, calories burned, stock prices, whatever.

Anyway, please note that under "Basic Features", in the lower right corner, that it is waterproof to 10 meters (32 feet).

I gotta say, if you find yourself riding your bike more than 30 feet underwater, the number of calories you're burning (especially without access to oxygen) is the least of your worries.

(click to enlarge)

Life with the Grumpy Dogs

My dogs smelled so bad tonight that I had to give them a bath.

So I tossed stinky Cooper in the tub, and while I was fighting to rinse him off, stinkier Snowball wandered in to see what I was doing to his partner. My son Frank came in behind Snowball.

As soon as Snowball realized a bath was coming (which can take a bit, he's kinda slow) he started growling and backed out of the room. I told Frank to grab Snowball's collar, and to NOT let go of it under penalty of death. So he held on tight, while Snowball twisted and fought and tried to get away.

I turned back to the tub, dried off Cooper, and then turned around to grab Snowball.

Frank was standing there, tightly holding Snowball's broken collar. Snowball was nowhere to be seen.

Joys of Technology

Must be a week for directionally challenged freaks.

My 3:00 called 5 times for directions to my office, and kept arguing with my staff that WE had the wrong cross streets (I've been here since 1998, for crying out loud).

She shows up 10 minutes late, stomps up to the front desk, shoves a portable GPS system in my secretary's face (hasn't even signed in or introduced herself) and yells "THERE! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT!"

My secretary can see nothing wrong with what's on the screen, and says so. So the woman starts arguing that our building isn't where it's supposed to be according to GPS.

She then claimed that obviously the building had been moved since the GPS system was set-up! I swear!

Lady, this is a multistory, 15 year old, brick and concrete medical office building. I promise you that, short of major tectonic activity, they don't move.

Gee, That's a Tough Case

Okay, fans, I had a neurology consult (granted, I don't get many other kinds) at the hospital this morning, on a 16 year old guy who began acting weird around 1:00 a.m. last night.

The following is, I swear, what the admitting hospitalist's note said:

"Impression: Patient who took LSD around midnight, and is now brought in for bizarre behavior and hallucinations. We will consult neurology to determine cause of altered mentation, check MRI, EEG, and labs. May need spinal tap to rule-out meningitis."

Checked Out, but Signing In

Like every other doctor's office, I have a sign-in sheet up front. At the top it says my name (Ibee Grumpy, M.D., Neurology), today's date, and asks people to write their names and the time of arrival.

So some lady showed up this morning, wrote her name on it (Ima Bimbo) and the time.

THEN she actually wrote next to that "I am not here to see Dr. Grumpy!!! I am here to see Dr. Harry Mole, a dermatologist in suite #405, but this is the only sign-in sheet I could find!"

Excuse me, Ms. Bimbo, but if I walked through an office door that said "Ibee Grumpy, M.D., Neurology, Suite #600" AND saw the same thing on a sign-in sheet, I (and likely the vast majority of the mammal population) might consider that maybe I was the one in the wrong office.

In fact it would never occur to me (or any of my office staff in a just-held unscientific poll) to write on the sign-in sheet that I was here to see another doc (in another suite, no less!) then have a seat in the lobby!

There's nothing wrong with asking us for directions to Dr. Mole's office.

But signing in and writing that you're here to see a doc who obviously ain't here???????.

Eating Healthy After a Stroke

This is from last September, I meant to put it up before, but somehow misplaced it on the computer.

Anyway, I had a stroke survivor in the office, who asked me for information she could take home. I did a quick internet search, and found the Mayo Clinic website about stroke.

The information was good. Like many websites (including mine), Mayo sells ad space.

Unfortunately, the ad displayed on the stroke-prevention page was for Jack-in-the-Box tacos!

I just LOVE where it says "Tools for healthier lives" above and to the left of the taco ad.

Bon appetit, Mrs. Strokesurvivor. I'll see you back, soon.........

(click to enlarge)

It's the Thought That Counts

One of my lovely office ladies got married 3 weeks ago, and this was one of her gifts.

She was trying to find some adjectives to describe it, or even figure out a way to write a decent thank you note for this clay edifice.

The staff, however, were concerned that perhaps their opinions of this offering were, uh, not those of the majority.

So let's hear it, Grumpyites: What are your candid opinions of this?

Please note: it is lifesize (i.e. the size of a real fruit bowl and fruits).

(click to enlarge)

Got Sarcasm?

My cell phone rings at 11:58 p.m. on a Sunday. It's the hospital on the ID.

Dr. Grumpy: "This is Dr. Grumpy."

Miss Idiotclerk: "Hello? Is this Dr. Grumpy?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes."

Miss Idiotclerk: "You were here this afternoon and wrote an order for a head CT scan on Mrs. Stroke."

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes?"

Miss Idiotclerk: "So did you want that scan on her head?"


For those of you who are wondering, all I said was yes. Lord knows I'd LOVE to be sarcastic with this imbecile, especially when she's just woken me up for such an insanely stupid question. But, as I've learned from experience, doing so will get me written up to the hospital's board, and then I'll have to appear at some meeting to apologize for my actions, and write this bozo an apology, and agree on a 12 step plan to manage my anger. At the same time, though, there is nobody at the hospital for ME to complain to about criminally stupid employees.

I need some of this (I have no idea who did it)

(click to enlarge)