Thanks, But I Did That This Morning

Took the Grumpy tribe bowling today. I went to the counter to pay for shoes and a lane.

The guy rings me up and says "Sir, would you like a ball wash?"

It may be part of his job, but I couldn't say that with a straight face.

Checking Out

Mrs. Grumpy sent me over to Local Grocery for some tomatoes today. She also wanted me to pick up Danimals, those drinkable yogurt things for kids.

So I'm at the check-out and Mr. Cashier starts chatting.

Mr. Cashier: "Dude, you can't send these Danimals to school with your kids. They need to be refrigerated".

Dr. Grumpy: "My kids have them at home for snacks."

Mr. Cashier: "Good. They need to be refrigerated, ya know."

Dr. Grumpy: (getting out my wallet) "I'll put this on my debit card."

Mr. Cashier: "Okay. Maybe, instead, you should get snacks that don't need to be refrigerated, and that way your kids could have them at home or school".

Dr. Grumpy: (frantically trying to get out of there) "I'll just bag these myself, don't worry about it"

Mr. Cashier: "Or you could make your own protein shakes for kids, like with Ensure or ice cream or Slim-Fast? Or you could buy protein powder at health food stores? Or... Hey, you want your receipt? Where you going, Mister?"

Today's Mail

Included a letter, with this address:

"Grumpy Neuro Logical Neurological Neurology Office
Attn: Mr. Dr. Grumpy Mister, M.D."


I feel so special now.

No, Thank You

Mr. Gagmewithaspoon, while I understand that the abscess on your scrotum, which you saw a dermatologist for this morning, is of great concern to you, it is not why you are seeing me, your friendly neurologist.

So when I asked you how your carpal tunnel syndrome is doing, there was no reason to drop your pants. Especially since the door to my office was open, as I hadn't expected you to do something like that. Neither did the rest of my staff, though you may have unintentionally helped their diet plan.

So kindly pull them up, put your inflatable donut cushion on the chair, and tell me how your carpal tunnel syndrome is doing.

Wii Fit Boxing

While exercising last night with the Wii Fit, I realized the boxing could be improved by allowing you to put a face on the punching bag. Like Dr. Dipshit. Or Mrs. Idiot. Or evil drug rep Rikki.

On the other hand, if I did this I'd likely die from exhaustion, or break the TV.

You Don't Say!

I always ask patients if they've changed any of their other docs since I last saw them. I think it's important they get my letter, so we all know what each other is doing. Good communication is good for patients, and in this age people change docs often.

So I asked that question of a lady in her 50's today.

She said: "I'm seeing a new Gynecologist. I don't remember her name. She specializes in women."


Best kind, I guess.

Dear Dr. Dipshit

You sent a fax over to my office this morning that only said "PLEASE CALL ME ASAP TO DISCUSS MUTUAL PATIENT IMA DINGDONG!!! I'M AT 867-5309!!!".

I can only assume you did this because you are incapable of actually dialing a phone by yourself. Obviously, if someone at your end could look up my fax number, they could have found my phone number, too.

Mary brought it back to me about 3 minutes after it printed, and interrupted me while I was with a patient because it looked urgent.

I don't mind being interrupted, because a patient emergency should always take priority. So I called 867-5309.

The call was immediately transferred to your answering service, who told me your office was closed and offered to page another doctor on call, who likely had no idea why you were trying to reach me urgently. I begged the operator to see if your office had a backline she could connect me to, and she kindly did.

The lady who answered your backline obviously didn't give a shit. I told her I was Dr. Grumpy, and I was returning YOUR fax about Mrs. Dingdong. She told me the office was closed, and I should leave a message with the answering service. When I repeated that YOU HAD FAXED ME, she said you were having coffee with a drug rep, and didn't want to interrupt you (I guess it's better for a doctor to be interrupted when with a patient, huh?).

I told her that the fax said it was an emergency, so she sighed heavily (I know she rolled her eyes, even without a video link), whined, and said, "okay, let me go see if he's done".

I was then placed on hold for 2 minutes and 38 seconds (while I'm with a patient at my end) before another of your staff came on, said you were still with the drug rep, and asked me which patient it was on, what their date-of-birth was, and why was I calling in the first place? Could it wait until your office opened?

Sorry I hung up at that point, but I didn't want to scream and swear at some poor staff member that you'd stuck between us. Obviously, you and I have a different definition of "emergency".

And you can call me back if you need me. Or better yet, just have the patient call me, since apparently no one at your end believes in patient care.


(Friday morning update: Nope. I never heard back from him.)

No! Not that!

From my first patient of the day:

Dr. Grumpy: "What kind of neck surgery did you have?"

Mr. Neckpain: "It was a bone graft. They put a cadaver in my neck. I mean a bone graft from a cadaver, not the whole cadaver."

The Dog Ate My Homework, but the Cat.....

Too awesome not to share. Here's a guy caught with kiddie porn on his computer, who tried to convince the police that HIS CAT downloaded it!

Check it out!

Phone Phun

Today ended with me doing an evening telephone and internet conference with 15 other neurologists across the country to review data on a drug that's in development.

The meeting took place after we were all home. So you'd hear the occasional sounds of home life. A kid yelling, a dog barking, somebody laughing in the background, etc.

Usually these things go fairly smoothly. Tonight's, however, had 2 noteworthy interruptions:

Interruption #1:

The "click" of a receiver being picked up, and suddenly a young female voice cuts off the moderator:

Young female: "Daddy! My boyfriend is supposed to call tonight! Why are you on the phone?"

Neurologist X: "Britney! Get off the phone NOW! I'm in a meeting!"

Young female: "Daddy! This isn't just any boy! This is TREVOR!!!!!!!!!!!!" (click)



Interruption #2

The Moderator was asking a few questions. He was interrupted when a neurologist with a thick Brooklyn accent apparently had an interruption at home, and loudly said:

"What? Tell him to fuck off! I'm on the phone!"


Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Dr. Grumpy's Guide to Life, Chapter 2

(As a public service I've written the following, for you to print off and use before shopping for school supplies).

Okay, so this is the 2nd edition of my helpful newsletter (If you missed the last edition on surviving your child's birthday party, click here).

Today's issue will focus on what I discovered to be a horribly traumatic life-altering experience: Back-to-School week at OfficeStaplesMaxDepot. There's one right across the street from my office, so I go there regularly for supplies. It's quiet, the employees are generally helpful, and I know my way around it pretty well.

I naively thought this would be easy.

So on to the lesson:

1. Do NOT volunteer for this job (flip a coin, or arm wrestle, or have a duel to decide instead).

Silly me. When Mrs. Grumpy was wondering when she'd have time to get the school supplies, I volunteered. I figured "How hard can it be? Hell, it's just some pencils and a bottle of glue". DUMBASS!!! The list is HUGE, and features items from the mundane (No. 2 pencils), to the specific (Expo dry erase markers, wide tip, in blue, green, yellow, and black) to the odd (1 Pringles can with lid, original flavor, empty). It took me 2 freakin' hours!

2. Be prepared. Normally there are 5-10 other quiet business-type people there. NOT THIS WEEK! Holy Crap! An African street bazaar is an orderly affair compared to this! Deranged parents running on caffeine! Kids running amuck! Store clerks running for their lives! And all the crazed parents are trying to read off a list, push a cart, yell at kids, and scream into a cell phone at the same time. Bring a water bottle, food, a map, a cattle prod, and a flashlight. A card with your blood type, hospital preference, and next of kin is also a good idea.

3. Do not leave your cart unattended. People will steal your shit out of it. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP! I had my cart 2/3 full with the crap on my list, when I left it at the end of an aisle to go find notebooks (spiral, wide-ruled, 100 pages each, single subject, 1 red, 1 blue, 1 green). When I returned 3 minutes later about half the stuff I'd already put in it was GONE! I watched a few minutes later as it happened to others. Apparently, when you walk away from your cart, people think it means they can raid it for supplies they haven't had a chance to pick up yet. "Hey, this guy has those index cards (2 sizes, lined and unlined, 100 each) that my kid needs. Cool. I'll scratch that off my list".

If another parent asks you what school your kid goes to, or who their teacher is, DO NOT ANSWER. Ignore them. Pretend you're deaf, or that you don't speak English. They are not making conversation. They are casing your cart, and if they find out your kid is in the same class as their kid, they'll wait until you aren't looking to take your stuff (or just switch carts).

Best part was when I went to ask an employee for help finding something (Flair Correction Pens, in 4 colors). When I got back to my cart the box of 12 ultra-fine tip Sharpies I left in it had been opened, and someone had taken one of them. They'd even doodled on the shopping list I left in my cart to make sure they were taking a pen that worked.

Oddly, you can leave valuables in your cart. Your wallet, purse, and gold jewelry will be perfectly safe if left unattended, but the $2.69 box of high-lighters (12 markers, large tip, in 3 colors) will vanish.

My recommendation: bring a child to guard your cart, preferably one with an iron bladder and who's old enough to use a Taser or firearm if needed. If your kids don't meet this requirement, stop by Home Depot and hire one of the day laborers who hangs out in front looking for work.

4. Do not look for certain numbers of things. The people who make these lists have no idea how things are sold, so it lists things as "1 Expo dry erase marker, chisel-tip, red). Great. They don't sell red ones individually, just in boxes of 4. Or the Flair Correction Pens don't come in only 4 colors, but they do come in 8. Just buy it. If you aren't certain what item the teacher wants, just buy everything in sight and return the rejects later.

Alternatively, if the teacher only wants 1 of an item, such as, say, an ultra-fine tip Sharpie (which only come in boxes of 12), you can always look for an unattended cart with a box of them in it, and take one. If paper is handy, try doodling on it to make sure you are stealing one that works.

5. Hold your place in the check-out line AT ALL COSTS. Reserve it as soon as you walk in the store BEFORE shopping. Use a child (preferably your own) if possible. Other options include day laborers from Home Depot, mannequins, dogs, and aggressive Venus Fly Traps.

6. When in doubt, ask the bleary-eyed, terrified employees for help. If nothing else, it is fun to watch them try to convince you that they don't speak English as they run outside for a cigarette.

Good luck!

Heard In My Office

My secretary Mary was chatting with a patient while she scheduled a follow-up appointment. I was around the corner, reading through some MRI reports.

Mary: "So, are you going anywhere this Summer?"

Mrs. Sympathy: "No. I'm stuck here, waiting for my mother to die. Today would be good."

And then she picked up her purse and left.

Priorities

Just before closing yesterday, my 9:00 for this morning canceled his appointment. It happens.

So early this morning Miss Headache calls: "I'm having a HORRIBLE migraine! My treatment isn't working anymore! I need to see Dr. Grumpy urgently!!!!!!!"

Trying to be helpful, I called her back myself (Mary wasn't in yet).

Dr. Grumpy: "Hi, Miss Headache. We have an opening for 9:00 this morning, can you come in then?"

Miss Headache: "9:00? No, I've got a hair and nail appointment. Do you have anything next week?"

Ed! Don't Jump!

Ed* is my office mascot, and has been since 2001. While he changes incarnations every few years, his name remains Ed. He is a Betta, and carries out his office responsibilities with great enthusiasm.

So it came as a shock to start my day this morning to find that Ed had attempted suicide sometime during the night, and was flopping around on the floor next to his bowl. He's since been returned to his home, and suicide precautions have been taken by lowering the water level.

I dissolved some Prozac in his bowl, and called for an emergent visit from the aquatic psychiatrist.


*Not his real name. Ed comes from a family with a long tradition of service in the health care industry, and has requested anonymity due to concerns his parents will learn he's working for a lowly neurologist, instead of a surgical subspecialty.