Suzy Frazzled, M.S.W.

The phones have been ringing busily today, and so a few calls went to voice mail. Annie had me listen to this one. She was laughing so hard she ran to the bathroom so she wouldn't wet herself.

"Hi, this is Suzy Frazzled. I'm a social worker involved in the medical case of Kathy Smith. I'm calling to see if you have any records on her. You probably don't, because none of the other doctors on the list she gave me have ever heard of her, either, and I'm on my last damn nerve dealing with her. Anyway, she's blaming every freaking illness she has, like Fibromyalgia, Restless Leg Syndrome, asthma, arthritis, back pain, irritible bowel syndrome, fatigue, fungal bladder infections, and a bunch of other junk, all on a freaking piece of cotton that was left in her ear 2 years ago after she had a glob of wax taken out. She thinks she's won the freaking lottery, apparently. What? No Bob, I don't have that info here. I've been working on Mrs. Smith all damn morning. How come you don't get these? The boss gives me all this shit, and it's not fair. Where the hell do these people come from and why do they always end up on my freaking desk? Why can't I get normal cases? Oh, sorry, hello? Anyway, please call me back and let me know if you've ever heard of this lady and have a happy holidays."

Spelling Errrorz

Hot off the fax machine this morning! A bunch of notes on a lady, and referral form that says:

"Send patient to a neurologist ASAP. I think she has a stork."


If it's NOT a spelling error, the patient needs either a vet or an OB.

The First Night

The official Grumpy family Christmakuh tree is up, and I want to wish my Jewish readers a very happy Hanukkah.



For those of you unfamiliar with Tom Lehrer's remarkable work, I suggest you learn more. He is one of the very best musical comedians EVER, with, oddly enough, advanced degrees in science and mathematics. Other brilliant works include The Elements, Pollution, Smut, The Hunting Song, I Hold Your Hand in Mine, and many others. For those who (like me) grew up watching The Electric Company on PBS, he wrote a number of those catchy tunes, such as L-Y and Silent E.

Okay, You Can

Dr. Grumpy: "After you hit your head, how long were you unconscious?"

Mr. Dingdong: "1 minute and 14.37 seconds."

Dr. Grumpy "That's pretty precise."

Mr. Dingdong: "I used a stopwatch".

Attention Junkies!

I hate all of you who have impaired my ability to buy enough Sudafed to keep me and my family snot-free during cold season.

Rot in hell, with a cold. And no medications are available for it. Or Kleenex. You can just chap your nose for all eternity with your shirt sleeves. Or worse.

Dear CVS Caremark,

If your specialty pharmacy mail-order branch is handling my patients' potentially dangerous injectable drugs, it would give me (not to mention them) A LOT more confidence if you knew how to spell your own job title.

(click to enlarge)




Yerz trooly,

Dokter Grumpy.

I Bet He Ain't As Comfortable

Dr. Grumpy: "Is there anything that makes your back pain better?"

Mrs. Lumbar: "Well, my husband has a set of exercise balls, not the huge ones, but the small ones you roll across your muscles, and the pressure from those helps. So I'm able to get comfortable and sleep, but only if I spend the night lying across his balls".

Dear Mr. I.M.A. "Rich" Azzholl, III

I'm sorry about the way things went at your appointment yesterday. I guess you and I just didn't have great chemistry.

I can understand you being frustrated with me. Obviously, a man of your means is used to people kissing his ass constantly. But here at Grumpy Neurology, it doesn't buy you much. Let's face it, Medicare pays me the same amount to put up with you as it pays me to put up with Mr. Nice Butpoor. If you were paying me $1000/hour to listen to your stories about the yacht club I might be more inclined to do so. But I'm only going to get Medicare's flat $115 for you, and my billing company gets 10% of that, and I have to pay Mary, Annie, my rent, the Diet Coke bill, and my malpractice insurance out of the rest.

Anyway, we were obviously off to a bad start when you told Mary that your regular doctor (who you pay cash to) dresses up for you. And this was before you even had a look at me. You also were not happy that, when you asked Mary what kind of refreshments we offer for waiting patients, she pointed to the water cooler.

I SO enjoyed being grilled over my credentials. I really am a doctor, I swear, not some homeless person who decided to rent an office, hire some staff, and buy some cheap office furniture just for the hell of it. You were clearly not impressed that I went through public schooling most of my life. Of course I've heard of your alma mater, but it was so much more fun to watch the horrified expression on your face when I pretended I hadn't, and then asked you if it was in Arkansas. The devil made me do, what else can I say?

I think we reached the low point during the appointment when, after I'd spent 30 minutes taking your windy history, and another 20 minutes examining you, your heavily plasticized wife (who may be putting arsenic in your prunes- watch out) asked me "So when will the doctor come in to talk to us?" That made me feel real special.

So when I heard you tell Mary that you didn't want to schedule a follow-up with me, and wanted to discuss matters with your internist, I knew this translated to "I'm never coming back here and am complaining to my internist about you". And guess what? I don't care.

Be careful the automatic door doesn't hit... oh, sorry, guess I should have warned you sooner.

More Gift Ideas

For those of you still looking for that perfect gift, here's another great idea!

Dogs give you unconditional love, but is that really good enough for you? Wouldn't it be important to know just how many breeds are represented in your mutt? Or is your "purebred" really that? And maybe you'd love your poodle less if you discovered he had a trace of beagle in his lineage?

Wonder no more!

Blood Pressure is Overrated, Anyway

This note was faxed to my office from the patient's family doc this morning.

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You Saw It Here First!

My reader Kaitlin notified me yesterday that Dave Barry's column for Sunday, December 6, also featured the nose-shaped soap dispenser that I presented on December 5.

I wish to point out that Dr. Grumpy beat him to press with this important breaking news by several hours, and his column was not leaked to me in advance (unless you consider the catalog being sent to my home to be a leak).

I also am not now, nor have I ever been, Mr. Barry

And I ain't gonna pose in the buff for you guys, either.

Skool Nerse Time

This is Mrs. Grumpy. He didn't want to hear me bitch about my day at the school, and told me to tell you guys. So here.

School nursing brings you an amazing collection of hypochondriacs, and it gets worse with winter break coming and they get restless. So today, besides the usual collection of snotty noses, stomach aches, and "I can't do PE because..." I had this.

Kid #1: "Somethings wrong with my eyes. I can't read the board today."

Me: "Don't you wear glasses?"

Kid#1: "Yeah, but I left them at home."


AND


Kid #2: "I've had this bump on my little finger since I was five, and it looks the same."

Me: "You're ten now. So why are you here?"

Kid#2: "I wanna know what it is."


I also want to thank the 2 teachers (neither of whom was a sub) who sent these kids to my office during regular class time for these complaints.

Whatever

Dr. Grumpy: "Do you have any other medical issues?"

Mrs Barph: "I vomit every afternoon at 3:05 p.m. This started in 1987 and I haven't missed a day since."

I Bet the Cops Love You

Dr. Grumpy: "Sir, why did you call 911?"

Mr. Bozo: "I forgot my doctor's phone number, and thought maybe they would know it, and could call him for me to make an appointment. I need to see him."