We all have that co-worker/classmate/boss/whatever who's under the impression that their own solid waste doesn't stink. Now there's the perfect gift for that person.
Yes, a few drops of this stuff in the toilet bowl allegedly nullifies any odiforous vapors, and allows them to continue in their belief that their ass smells like roses and cotton candy.
It should be noted that the product only works if you actually shit in the toilet bowl, NOT on top of the tank as the picture suggests.
Dr. Grumpy: "Okay... the MRI report says the study was normal, and this is a good doctor who read it."
Mrs. Kroger: "Yes, but it was horribly misread. I've been comparing my films to some I found on the internet, and here's a list of all the diseases I have that the radiologist missed."
Dr. Grumpy: "Are you a doctor?"
Mrs. Kroger: "No, I'm a cashier at Local Grocery."
I'm going to go out on a limb here and say these findings might be extrapolated to cover my epilepsy, migraine, Parkinson's patients, and pretty much most chronic conditions.
What's the perfect gift for your newly divorced lady friend? Besides a gift certificate to a lawyer and a shitload of chocolate, she'll need some kitchen furnishings for her new place.
So why not get her the Ex-Husband Kitchen Knife Set?
This lovely piece is the perfect combination of culinary equipment, homicidal fantasy, and voodoo doll. And it's available in 7 colors!
Disclaimer: I'm NOT getting paid to show this (or any other gifts). The link is so you can see the other lovely colors (including blood red!) yourself.
Okay, while I do not condone the practice of making meth, I must say that if you're inclined to do so, do it at home, or a meth house, or some private structure.
To me the highlight of the story is that employees called police after noticing she was acting weird. Given what I've seen on my rare trips to WalMart, I'm somewhat reassured to know that they actually do have a cut-off point.
So last night Mrs. Grumpy and I sat outside on our freezing cold patio to have the "what are we getting the pet rats children for Christmakuh?" talk.
While sitting there we suddenly heard this LOUD crunching and rattling noise, which kept getting louder and louder. As we watched, one of Frank's remote-controlled cars (which makes more noise than a garbage truck) came rolling slowly around the hot-tub. With a running digital voice recorder duct-taped to the roof.
I have to give Frank points for innovation, but a "FAIL" for execution. If you're going to spy with a remote-controlled toy, use one that doesn't sound like a garbage disposal.
For whatever reason, someone (who I assume hasn't been taking their medications) sent me a long rambling diatribe about how much they hate doctors. Specifically, the phrase "rich doctors and their fancy cars" was used several times in the rant.
Therefore, in the interest of full disclosure, I hereby list all of the cars that Dr. Grumpy has ever owned:
1982-1983: 1978 Datsun 810 station wagon (if you remember Datsun, you're old, too) 1983: 1979 Pontiac Trans Am (wrecked after 3 months) 1983-1984: 1982 Pontiac Trans Am 1984-1989: 1982 Oldsmobile Cutlass station wagon 1989-1993: 1988 Mercury Cougar 1993-1999: 1990 Infiniti M30 1999 to present: 2000 Nissan Maxima
It should be noted that the current car is the only one I didn't get used. All cars were driven until they were wrecked or completely fell apart, and the cost of repairs exceeded their value.
All cars except the last 3 were shared with siblings and parents. The current one is shared with 3 insane backseat drivers (not including Craig's hair).
It's the middle of the night, and you're using the bathroom. But after sitting down you discover there's either a power outage or the bulb burned out. How often does this happen to you? That many? Have you considered calling an electrician?
Anyway, if this is something a friend of yours deals with regularly, than I have the perfect gift for them: glow-in-the-dark toilet paper!
This miracle is also useful for camping or as an emergency flashlight.
It doesn't say if it will rub off and give you a luminescent anus.
All right, for those of you who are too busy to keep up on breaking medical research that affects our lives, here's a big one:
The Center for Disease Control publishes a weekly report summarizing disease trends. In this week's, among generic items about flu and arthritis, was a case of Campylobacter jejuni (it's a bacterium) infection in 2 sheep-ranch hands in Wyoming.
Normally this bug is spread by contaminated food. But the 2 guys involved hadn't clearly eaten anything known to be an infectious source.
So, after diligent detective work the CDC found this pair had contracted it by castrating lambs.
WITH THEIR TEETH.
Yes, folks. These guys were actually biting off lamb balls. While this was a way of detesticulating sheep back before the germ theory was popular, it's generally fallen out of use.
Except, apparently, for 2 guys in Wyoming.
So, to summarize:
1. Animals carry diseases.
2. When neutering livestock, do not use your teeth as a surgical instrument.
3. Be careful who you kiss on a Wyoming sheep ranch, as you don't know where their mouth has been.
I've always liked the Muppets. One of my favorite songs is "Rainbow Connection," as performed by Kermit at the beginning of their first movie.
For those of you who don't know it:
Anyway, it may be corny, but the song got me through some shitty times. After I failed the first anatomy test in medical school (big time, too- I was the class low out of 120 people) I went to a used record store and bought the Muppet Movie soundtrack just to listen to that song. In a sappy sort of way it reminded me of why I was there in the first place, and I pulled my shit together, didn't drop out of school, and forged ahead.
Life goes on. Medicine is still fun. I mean, I like what I do. I have to earn a living, so I might as well be doing something I like.
And then, one day a few years back, I was having an ordinary day at the office. And toward the end of it was served with my first malpractice suit.
Nothing will kick the shit out of you faster than that moment. Yes medical students and residents, you WILL get sued. Get used to it. Someone on Sermo recently wrote "I have believed for a long time that unless you are practicing grossly negligent medicine your probability of getting sued is small." This is a remarkably ignorant statement.
Getting sued is like cancer- something that happens to other people. I think all doctors, on a superficial level, know it will likely happen. But you're still blindsided when it happens to you.
Obviously, I'm not going to go into legal details of the case, or who won, or even if it was dismissed. Because none of those are relevant to this post.
And I'm sure there are plenty of patients out there who can write how horrible Dr. Butcher maimed you. I'm sure some of you have legitimate claims. But I'm not writing about you.
Malpractice isn't black or white. It's really mostly shades of gray. I'm not biased against lawyers, in fact- my Dad is one, and sued several doctors for malpractice. But I'm not going to get involved in arguments about lawyers vs. doctors, either.
My point is just my own experience.
People portray doctors as being arrogant or uncaring. And I'm sure some are. But anytime a case goes bad, it's personally devastating for most of us. Even if you did nothing wrong. Sometimes shit happens despite your best efforts.
It hurts. A lot. You do your best day in and day out, and feel awful when things go wrong. And now someone is accusing you of having committed malpractice in your efforts. They tell you not to take it personally, but how can you not? Hell, they even name your spouse in the suit (really, they do).
You see, there is always another doctor out there willing to testify in court (for a nice fee, of course) that what you did wasn't appropriate. He's Dr. Jukebox. You put in money and he'll play whatever tune they want him to (it pays a lot better than seeing patients). The statements from these whores will make you feel like shit, and the legal language used makes you sound on a par with Dr. Mengele.
No amount of medical competence can prevent someone from filing a lawsuit against you. Even if you did nothing wrong, there's always a hungry lawyer willing to take the case. After all, it only costs about $100 to file a suit, the potential payoff is 1/3 of the winnings, and he knows a Dr. Jukebox who will gladly testify that you're incompetent.
Your medical school teachers won't tell you what it's like to be sued, but I will.
It's devastating.
It kicks the shit out of you. You lie awake at night wondering if you're going to lose everything you ever worked for. You cry. You think about suicide, but have to go on for your family. With this sword of Damocles hanging over your head, you still have to go to work every day, and do your best for the patients who still depend on you. Some days it's pretty damn hard NOT to start drinking.
And, deep down, you wonder: Am I really incompetent? You question your own judgment. Suddenly every headache patient needs a brain MRI. Every person you see is a time bomb. You start to view them as the enemy.
People use the phrase "defensive medicine" in a derogatory fashion, meaning unnecessary testing doctors order to prevent themselves from being sued. But after it's happened to you, hell, you don't give a fuck how much money the "unnecessary" tests cost. You'll order anything to cover your ass.
And no matter what you did, Dr. Jukebox will testify that it wasn't the right thing. And no amount of literature in your favor will change his "expert" (i.e. well-paid) opinion. The people on the jury deciding your fate aren't medical people.
Even if you win, it still doesn't take away the living hell you and your family are put through for the 3-5 years (yes, years) it takes the case to play out. The sleepless nights, the gray hairs, the stress eating that shortens your time on Earth, and the spouse and kids who worry about you.
And, regardless of the case's outcome, it will forever destroy your Rainbow Connection, and the beliefs that once drove you to dream of being a doctor.
This blog is entirely for entertainment purposes. All posts about patients, or my everyday life, or anything else may be fictional, or be my experience, or were submitted by a reader, or any combination of the above. Factual statements may or may not be accurate. I could be making all this up. I may not even be a doctor. The only true statement on here is that I probably drink more Diet Coke than you do. A lot more.
Singing Foo!
Twitter fans- you can follow me @docgrumpy
Cast of Characters:
Annie: My Phenomenal MA Mary: My Awesome Secretary Ed: The office fish Dr. Pissy: The guy I share an office with Mrs. Grumpy:My Boss (also the world's greatest school nurse) Frank, Craig, and Marie:The Grumpy Tribe Garlic and Riley: The Grumpy Dogs
Questions? Comments? Biting sarcasm? Write to: pagingdrgrumpy [at] gmail [dot] com
Note: I do not answer medical questions. If you are having a medical issue, see your own doctor. For all you know I'm really a Mongolian yak herder and have no medical training at all except in issues regarding the care and feeding of Mongolian yaks.
