Money at work

A few weeks ago Mr. Tachy called my office in a panic. He was at the gym, on one of those machines that monitored his pulse. At one point it said his heart rate was 210.

He panicked, and got off it. He felt like his heart was pounding. He was terrified.

He called my office (NO! I have no idea why he called his neurologist!). Annie sent him to ER. Of course, he didn't go. He drove to his internist instead.

His internist did an EKG, which was fine by that point, and some labs. All fine. So he sent him to a cardiologist.

The cardiologist did all kinds of expensive stuff, and couldn't find anything. So she referred him to a cardiac electrophysiologist. They did more expensive testing of the heart's circuitry, again without any answers.

So after several weeks, 3 doctors, lots of tests, and a crapload of money we knew what he DIDN'T have, but still had no idea why his heart had done that.

Yesterday he came to see me for the first time since this all happened. I asked him if he'd gone back to the gym yet.

"Yeah, I started last week. Guess what? It turned out the machine was broken. It read a pulse of 210 on everything, even when nothing was connected to it."

Afternoon interlude

Dr. Pissy: "Ibee, did you see that article a few months ago about diet soda being linked to stroke?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yeah, several readers sent it to me."

Dr. Pissy: "What do you think?"

Dr. Grumpy: "It's concerning, but I'd have to see more solid data before I believe it. I mean, we've both seen plenty of research, like Saccharin in the 80's, that said it did something awful that later turned out to be incorrect."

Dr. Pissy: "I agree with you, but... I think I'm going to stop drinking Diet Coke. I've been wanting to give it up anyway. I've got a few cases left, but I'm just going to go cold turkey off it."

Long pause.

Dr. Grumpy: "Then can I have yours?"

Annie's desk, April 4, 2011

Annie: "Dr. Grumpy's office, this is Annie."

Mr. Goodyear: "Hi, Dr. Grumpy referred me to a cardiologist, and I made an appointment for tomorrow. I'm stuck out of town on business now, and there's no way I'll be able to make it. Can you call them and cancel for me?"

Annie: "Sure. What doctor is your appointment with?"

Mr. Goodyear: "I have no idea. It's on my desk at home. It was someone on the list."

Annie: "What list?"

Mr. Goodyear: "The one from Major Illness Insurance, of cardiologists on the plan."

Annie: "Hang on, let me look it up online... They have 38 cardiologists in our area. Do you have any idea who it may have been?"

Mr. Goodyear: "No. Can you just call all of them for me?"

Party on, dude

Mr. Astalt: "I used to be a heavy drinker, like 1 or 2 full bottles of vodka a day. But I want to be healthy, and don't do that anymore."

Dr. Grumpy: "How much vodka do you drink now?"

Mr. Astalt: "Maybe a quart per day."

Doctors Behaving Badly

Yesterday morning I got dragged from my Sunday sleep-in to see a hospital patient.

As usual, I swung by the doctor's lounge for some morning nourishment, namely a Diet Coke and miscellaneous baked good.

In the tray of muffins, I encountered this:





What is it you ask? Well, let's unwrap it:





Yes, folks, it's a banana-nut muffin that one of my esteemed colleagues gnawed/cut/pulled the top off THEN WRAPPED BACK UP AND RETURNED TO THE TRAY!!!

I decided to just have a bagel.

Back to the artisanal mailbag

Ever since I began whining about the horrific overuse of the word "artisan" and it's derivatives a while back, you guys have been inspired to send in examples.

Due to surprisingly popular demand, I've created a webpage just for this insanity. It's down on the right sidebar, listed with my other specialty page on history stories.

As always, you guys sent in A LOT of stuff. I'm only going to post a few at a time. So if yours isn't up today, don't worry. It likely will be in the future.

And now it's time for (drumroll please):






One of you wrote that you have a free GPS service, which occasionally posts screen ads. And when you drove by an Olive Garden restaurant, you got this:






Artisanal, by definition, means "hand made by a skilled craftsman". As much as I like Costco, somehow I don't think their mass-produced pizza fits that category.






Even fast-food giant Wendy's is doing it. They also get bonus points for putting another overused annoyance, "panini" onto the same menu page.






With your artisanal breakfast you'll want coffee...





Some of you, however, may prefer to stay home and prepare meals with artisanal kitchen appliances (in great colors, too!)




But don't eat TOO much or you won't fit into your swimsuit!






And if all this artisanal crap makes you want to vomit, maybe it's time to head for the toilet.

Saturday re-runs

Due to yet more Scouting activities today, I'm re-posting a touching ICU moment.


This morning I was called to evaluate a 23 year-old lady who was found
floating face down in her pool. Probable suicide attempt.

While I was writing my chart note a nurse came over to tell me that the
patient's fiancé was on the phone, and wanted to talk to a doctor about
what was going on. I picked up the phone and had the following
conversation:

Dr. Grumpy: "Hello?."

Mr. Fiancé: "Yeah, are you the doctor taking care of my fiancé, Jane Doe?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes sir."

Mr. Fiancé: "Are her car keys there? 'Cause it's my car, and I need it back."

Dr. Grumpy: (astounded) "No sir, there aren't any car keys here."

Mr. Fiancé: "Well, did she leave a note saying where the car keys were, or where she left my car parked? I need it, because I have stuff to do today."

Dr. Grumpy: "No, sir, nothing like that"

Mr. Fiancé: "Well, you're no help to me" (hangs up).

One of the best for today. EVER.

Online entertainment

Last night I was signed up to do CME (continuing medical education) with a live webcast.

I don't do these very often, but it was free, I needed the credits, and I figured I could do some paperwork while tuned in. Who knows? I might even learn something.

So the talk began. The speaker was broadcasting from his home office, using a webcam on top of the computer. It seemed like the usual monotonous stuff... "When considering options in the treatment of Frickle-Martin syndrome one must first..."

Then his cell phone rang. "Oh, sorry everyone, I'm on call for my group tonight. I had to switch and tonight was the only... Hello? Yes, this is he. Yes, I rounded on her today. No, the MRI was still being done when I left. I can't talk to her family right now, I'll call back in an hour."

A few minutes later he was reviewing a nail-biting slide on cellular metabolism when he suddenly jumped back in his chair and a large, furry, white Samoyed reared up next to the desk, put it's paws on it, and stared straight into the camera "No! Down Sweater! Bad dog!" Not to be turned away, Sweater licked the speaker's face before disappearing.

A few more minutes went by, when there was a voice in the background. I couldn't hear what it said, but the speaker immediately turned away from a heart-pounding genetics slide and yelled: "I'm busy! I'll look at the math homework later."

Another few slides passed, and a phone rang. He ignored it for 3 rings then answered: "Hello? No, she, went to get Laura from piano class. I'll tell her you called."

The rest of the talk, unfortunately, was uneventful. I finished some office dictations, and made a mental note that if I'm ever asked to a talk like that (nobody is calling, either) I'll probably do it from my office downtown.

Family dinner table

Today some WWII veterans came to Wingnut Elementary School to talk to the kids.

Dr. Grumpy: "How'd the meeting with the veterans go, Frank?"

Frank: "Fine. But I'm not sure they were really soldiers."

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

Frank: "They were really old. The ones that you see on the news are young."

Dr. Grumpy: "Well, they were soldiers, and young, once."

Frank: "Well, they're old now. It's not a bad thing though, because, I mean, you look old, too."

Today's criminal tip

When getting drunk after pulling a smash & grab at the liquor store, I suggest you go home before starting the party.

Not like this guy.

Thank you, Fran, for sending this in!

Idiocy

Last night I was doing an online marketing survey, which featured this question:

Will your prescribing of Sarcasma increase, decrease, or stay the same based on your meeting with the sales rep?

[] Yes.

[] No.

Got yarn?

My 1:00 today came in with his wife.

She had a strange sweater on. It had the collar and both arms, but only partially (like by 3 inches) covered her shirt below the neck.

As I spoke to her husband, she took out yarn and needles.

She began knitting, working on adding to the semi-sweater she was wearing.

Tuesday night, 11:37 p.m.

Dr. Grumpy: "This is Dr. Grumpy, returning a page."

Mr. Wokemeup: "Yeah, I was wondering if you got a fax from my pharmacy. They said they sent it about an hour ago."

Dr. Grumpy: "I have no idea. It would be at my office. Are you out of pills?"

Mr. Wokemeup: "No, I'm good for another 3 days. I was just wondering if they faxed it like they said they would."