Maybe I should dress better

Yesterday a drug company hired me to do a lunchtime talk at an office down the street. It wasn't one I'd ever been to before.

I showed up at the appointed time, and politely waited at the front desk. After a few minutes a lady noticed me, and before I could speak, she said "Oh, glad you're here. Go through the door, and down the hall. It's the 3rd room on the right."

So I obligingly headed that way. I found myself in a room with a few business machines, and no people. An odd place to do a lunch talk, but some offices have very limited space. So I got out my speaker's notes and quietly glanced them over while I waited.

A few people walked by and looked at me, but didn't say anything. Finally the lady who sent me in came back.

Office Lady: "Uh, you can start whenever."

Dr. Grumpy: "But there's no one here yet to give my talk to."

Office Lady: "Talk? What do you mean?"

Dr. Grumpy: "I'm Dr. Grumpy, here to give a talk on Fukitol..."

Office Lady: "Oh, I thought you came to fix the copier."

Today's criminal tip

Okay, when committing a robbery, there are some things you shouldn't leave at the scene.

Like your diploma...

Life in line

I had to return something to the store last night, and was in line behind a lady carrying a large cardboard box with a picture of a table on it.

Counter Girl: "Can I help you?"

Mrs. Mesa: "Yeah, I bought this table that you have to put together, and I didn't like the way it looked when I assembled it. So I'm bringing it back."

Counter Girl: "Okay, do you have your receipt?"

Mrs. Mesa: "Right here." (hands over receipt)

Counter Girl: "Okay, and the table."

Mrs. Mesa: "Here you go." (hands over box)

Counter Girl: "Uh, this box is empty."

Mrs. Mesa: "Yeah. I put the table together, so it doesn't fit in the box anymore."

Counter Girl: "So where's the table?"

Mrs. Mesa: It's in my car. Do I need to bring it in?"

Counter Girl: "Yes, if you're returning it."

Mrs. Mesa: "Okay. But you should have that posted somewhere."

That doesn't sound good

Mr. Reaper: "Everyone in my family who's died, died of stuff."

Dr. Grumpy: "Like what?"

Mr. Reaper: "Bad stuff. I mean, the kind people die from."

Monday morning hospital rounds

I love it when I see contradictory stuff like this in a chart:

(click to enlarge)

Sunday Reruns

Mrs. Grumpy had a meeting tonight, so I had to feed the kids. Fortunately for me, a Big Pharma, Inc. drug rep brought lunch today to the office, and there were a lot of leftovers.

So as I was leaving this afternoon I grabbed a big bag out of the cabinet (with the Big Pharma, Inc. logo on it), tossed the leftovers in it, and headed out.

As I was passing a cardiologist's office on my way to the elevator, a pretty female rep I'd never seen before, wearing a Big Pharma, Inc. name tag, came out of his office. We made eye contact, and I nodded, smiled, and continued on my way.

Only to be stopped after another few steps by her saying loudly, "Oh MY GOD! What are you doing?"

I turned around to find Ms. Prettyrep looking at me, horrified, with her jaw agape. "Excuse me?" I said.

Ms. Prettyrep: "Are you taking food from a doctor's office?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Um, yeah, is that okay?"

Ms. Prettyrep: "NO! It's rude! It's unacceptable and inappropriate! And look at the way you're dressed!" (I tend to be on the casual side) "No name tag! What are the corporate people teaching you new reps, anyway?"

Before I could answer she went on: "I'm sorry. I suppose this isn't your fault. The training people must be slacking off." She offered me her hand. "You must be new. I'm Stacey, from the cardiology marketing division".

I shook her hand. "I'm Dr. Grumpy, from the neurology division down the hall."

Stacey from the cardiology marketing division looked even more horrified now then she had a minute ago. After a few stuttering attempts at saying something she answered her cell phone (which hadn't rung), mumbled "nice to meet you" and ran into the stairwell.

Random Saturday pictures

Thank you to everyone who sent in odd shots from everyday life.


Our first entry is a business that either needs a better speller, or has a strange inventory.





Next, we have a company that really needs a better acronym.





And finally, a reader whose car has a commentary on Driver 1's condition.

Minor details

Last month a local ER went to a Dragon-based dictation system that enters stuff in the chart as you type/talk, and you CANNOT undo anything. You can only dictate an addendum.

So I'm reading a note yesterday on a nice little old lady:

"When I went back into the room the patient was clearly intoxicated and verbally abusive. Her husband took off his belt and tried to hit me with it. Security was called and the husband was physically restrained, though he bit a guard in the process. The patient was put in 4-point leathers and given Haldol when she attempted to punch a nurse. Sorry, please ignore that, it's the wrong chart. Please rewrite it as: her head CT was normal, and I think she has benign positional vertigo. She and her husband were satisfied with this, and I gave her a prescription for Antivert. She'll follow-up with Dr. Grumpy next week in his office."

Attention patients:

Calling Mary "asshole bitch" for asking for your co-pay (or pretty much any reason) will not get you anything but the door.

Also, telling me "if you don't waive my co-pay I'll fire you", is not going to be taken as a threat.

Annie's desk, July 13, 2011

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

Ms. Whiney: "Yeah, I'm trying to get a lift chair, and the notes Dr. Grumpy furnished aren't getting it covered."

Annie: "Let me look at your chart... I don't see you having a neurological reason to have a lift chair."

Ms. Whiney: "I don't care. I want one. What's this line on the form that says 'neuromuscular disease'? Do I have one of those? Or can he at least check it off?"

Annie: "No."

Ms. Whiney: "I have migraines. Does that count as a neuromuscular disease?"

Annie: "No."

Ms. Whiney: "How about my bunions?"

Annie: "Goodbye."

Ways you don't want your body found

No matter what you did in life, it will always be overshadowed if they find you like this.

Thank you, M!

Let's hope she was adopted

Dr. Grumpy: "Have you had any surgeries?"

Mrs. Olde: "I had a hysterectomy, but I don't remember when. Susan, do you remember?"

Mrs. Olde's daughter: "I'm not sure, Mom. Was it before or after I was born?"

July 13

His name was Girard. He had back pain. That's all I remember about him.

On July 13, many years ago, he was the very first patient I ever saw on my own.

Working without a net for the first time is terrifying. I'd survived 4 years of medical school, 4 years of residency, and 1 year of fellowship to get there. This is the goal I wanted. And when it finally came it scared the crap out of me.

There was fear in medical school, starting classes and later starting clinicals, and even more in residency. But in both those cases there was always a back-up system- more senior people who actually knew what they were doing. There was also a herd-based support system: You were with plenty of other people, all sharing the same challenges.

But here, after 9 years of training, it was just me and Girard. Even though his case was simple, it's pretty damn scary to realize that YOU are the attending, and if you screw up there's no one else to blame.

I remember another patient that day started the visit by saying "I came to Humungous Neurology because I heard you guys are the most experienced." My inner voice said "you probably don't want to know this is my first day."

Throughout medical school you saw the attending physicians as omniscient giants. Suddenly you're one of them, and realize that they don't know everything. And you aren't a giant.

Like everything else, after a while it becomes routine. But trying to remember that first day still helps to keep you on your toes.

I don't remember how many patients I saw that first day. A handful compared to what I see now. One of them is still with me. I think I told her a few years later she was on my first day. I even got a hospital consult, a lady who'd obviously had a stroke. I got lost in the hospital trying to find her room, then sat in the MRI control room to see images, terrified at the thought that if they were normal I'd have no idea what was going on.

I've now spent an estimated 4,420 days of seeing patients in one place or another, with a lot more to go. But the first one was the scariest. And hopefully always will be.

To all who are starting this July, good luck.

I'd like to thank ER's Mom, who's recent post got me thinking about this.

Public Service Announcement

Attention kids: It is NOT safe to pet an alligator.

Especially if it is a stranger telling you to do so.

You're not supposed to talk to them, so WHY THE HELL would you listen when one tells you to play with a gator?

Thank you, Lee!