Things that make me grumpy

YOU!

Yes, you. You make me grumpy. Pissed off. Wanting to leap across my desk at you, if you were to ever come back here again, which you won't.

You were here last week for a disability evaluation. You looked miserable. Your friend pushed you up here in a wheelchair, and you used a cane to get from the chair into my office.

You were very polite. You told me how nice I was. You said that I "wasn't like the other insurance company docs" you'd been sent to. You even brought Mary some chocolate-covered berries for working you in so quickly.

I could see you were trying to butter us up. I'm not that stupid. But you did seem legitimately suffering, and were quite patient while I reviewed the boatload of test results your company had sent me.

I've been doing this long enough that I could see you were exaggerating some things, but you did seem to have some real limitations.

Anyway, I didn't complete your disability report over the weekend. Sorry, but I was on call. I put it off until this week, and boy, am I glad I did.

A DVD from your insurance company showed up in my mail yesterday. I've been watching it.

It's kind of interesting. It actually shows you leaving my medical building last week, after the appointment. I guess you were in too much pain to see the camera guy following you around, huh?

It was kind of neat how you stood up and began walking as soon as you got to the parking garage. I kind of expected you to yell "Hallelujah! It's a miracle!" like they do on TV, but you didn't. You just folded up the wheelchair, handed the cane to your friend, and walked over to your car.

You'd told me that you hadn't been able to drive for a year, so it was kind of surprising watching you get behind the wheel. I guess with your miraculous recovery you had an itching to try out the old motoring skills, huh?

I then watched a boring clip of you going over to Local Grocery. No biggie. But I loved it when you drove to Home Depot. You told me you couldn't lift more then 5 pounds at a time. I haven't bought paint in a few years, but those big metal cans, I'm pretty sure, weigh more than that. And you were carrying one in each hand.

After you got home there's a few hours missing. Maybe you were inside recovering from the horrible pain you'd suffered heroically buying salad dressing and paint. But when you emerged carrying a ladder, and began painting your front porch, I just lost it.

So, as you requested, I've now completed the forms listing my findings and what I think the extent of your disability is. And I personally faxed them to your company. And called to make sure they got them.

Have a nice day.

WTF were they thinking?

As an Apple fan going back over 25 years, I have to wonder WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? "iPAD" WAS THE BEST FUCKING NAME YOUR BILLION DOLLAR MARKETING DIVISION COULD COME UP WITH?

What the hell, Steve? What about iTop? or iScreen ("i scream, you scream, we all scream for iScreen")? or iANYTHINGELSEBUTIPAD?

Even Failblog got into the joke today.

Mary's Desk, January 27, 2010

Dr. Grumpy: "Have you sent those reports over to Dr. Freek yet?"

Mary: "I've been trying, but they're not going through. And it's been busy today."

Dr. Grumpy: "A lot of calls?"

Mary: "Yeah, but most are hang-ups or a fax or something."

Dr. Grumpy: "Why aren't the reports going through to Dr. Freek?"

Mary: "I have no idea. They just aren't. Are you sure about the fax number you gave me?"

Dr. Grumpy: "I think so, let me see it... Yeah, that looks familiar, I think it's his number."

Mary: "Okay, I'll keep trying... HEY!"

Dr. Grumpy: "What?"

Mary: "You dipshit! That's OUR phone number you told me to fax it to."


(long pause)


Dr. Grumpy: "Well, you didn't catch it either."

Mary: "You wrote it down! Not me!"


(another pause)


Dr. Grumpy: "Well, at least now we know why you're getting so many hang-ups today."

Mary: "Go back to your office! I'll tell you when you're allowed to come back out!"

Go Away!

I wandered up front to see my least-favorite drug rep, Rikki Phoneysmile, standing there.


Rikki: "Hi, Dr. Grumpy! Do you need any samples of Fukitol today?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Actually, yes, I'm all out."

Rikki: "I don't have any right now! Sorry!"

A Little Help Here, Please

Come on, somebody say something stupid! I've got a blog to write, damnit!

Geez. So far nothing blogworthy today. This sucks.

The hits keep coming, folks

Mrs. Hyve: "I'm allergic to all medications. I'm even allergic to Benadryl."

Dr. Grumpy: "What happens?"

Mrs. Hyve: "All medications give me a rash, so to safely take any pill, I have to take another pill first, to prevent the rash from happening."

Dr. Grumpy: "What do you take to keep the rash from occurring?"

Mrs. Hyve: "Benadryl."

Medication fun

Dr. Grumpy: "Are you still taking Ambien?"

Mr. Insomnia: "No, it stopped working, so my doctor switched me to Zolpidem, and that's much better."


(For my non-medical readers: Ambien and Zolpidem are the same medication)

I'm Living in "Airplane"

This morning I ordered a few bottles of Botox.

Miss Waytoohappy: "Okay, Dr. Grumpy, that's 4 bottles of Botox, and we'll get this shipped out today! Would you like a confirmation number?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Sure, what is it?"

Miss Waytoohappy: "It's a number we give you that allows you to reference this order if there are any problems or questions."

Strange things to find in the playroom, part 2

(for Part 1, click here)

Last night the boys borrowed Marie's Cinderella castle set, but told her they didn't need the dolls.

An hour later I wandered by and noticed this.

(click to enlarge)

Irrefutable logic

Dr. Grumpy: "You look kind of unsteady today."

Mr. Woodstock: "Yeah, I smoked a few joints out in my car before coming up here."

Dr. Grumpy: "Why did you do that?"

Mr. Woodstock: "I was really nervous about coming in today."

Dr. Grumpy: "Why were you nervous? You've been here before."

Mr. Woodstock: "Oh, not about that. I've been drinking scotch all morning, and didn't want you to notice I was drunk when I came in. I've never been drunk to a doctor visit before, so I smoked some weed to calm down, because I didn't want you to think I'd been drinking."

Do you enjoy wasting time?

Look, lady, I don't treat Glermfronger's disease*.

I've never treated it. I mean, I know some neurologists do, but most of us don't. It requires some additional training that I don't have.

In fact, when you called last week, both Annie and Mary told you I don't, and tried to give you some names of docs who do. You insisted on making the appointment with me anyway, saying you had "other neurological issues", too.

So, now that you're here, you tell me that you really don't have other issues, and you just made the appointment to discuss your Glermfronger's. And guess what? I still don't treat it. You coming into my office didn't magically give me the ability to treat it, like you apparently thought it would.

And handing me an insurance auth from your family doc saying "refer to neurology for Glermfronger's disease" doesn't miraculously make me treat it, either. So stop repeatedly showing it to me.

Oh, I get it, if it's on your insurance auth it MUST be true.

And now you tell me that there actually is a neurologist on your insurance who does treat it, but she's 5 miles from your house, and I'm only 3 miles. So you thought you'd lie to get in here, hoping to save some driving.

Well, you've now wasted a 1 hour slot for both of us, and your crappy insurance won't pay me for it, and someone else who needed to come in today is waiting for another day because of your selfishness and stupidity.

People like you make me wish I had a trap door under that chair.


*Not a real disease, but I'm using it for anonymity.

Attention Dr. Pissy!

Since I was on call this weekend, I appreciate you picking up the next week's soda supply for the office.

However, you have erroneously purchased Local Grocery Generic Brand CAFFEINE FREE Diet Soda.

You are never allowed to do the office shopping again. Ever. And I'm reporting you to your wife.

And if the staff uses up all the Provigil samples this week trying to function, it's your fault.

Dénouement

Aw, gee, they're towing Dr. Prik's car away.

What kind of asshole would have called security to report the expired placard?

That's a shame.

Sunday Morning, 4:05 a.m.

Bleary-eyed, I stumble into the doctor's lounge. I'm on call. I have a migraine, though the medication is starting to take effect. I'm sleep deprived. I forgot to grab a Diet Coke on the way out of the house. I need caffeine, calories, and fluids.

It's been picked clean. No bagels, bread, or muffins. Shelves empty. Refrigerator empty. Coffee machine broken and overflowing into the sink.

After a careful search I found:

3 packets of melba toast.

1 packet of fat-free, calorie-free, taste-free cream cheese.

And an 8 oz. can of caffeine-free diet RC cola that was lying between the refrigerator and the sink. It was covered with dust bunnies and warm from the fridge motor. The hospital hasn't carried RC in years.

This sucks.