Speeding. Drunk Driving. Racing through a construction zone.

But hey, it's for a good cause!


Thank you, Lee!

Of course, morons are everywhere.

 

Huh?

Dr. Grumpy: "Have a seat and let me look at your chart... So I saw you last week and started you on Mariokart. I'm surprised to see you back in less than a week. Was there a problem?"

Mrs. Copay: "No, I haven't even started it yet. But at the appointment you said I could take it in the morning or at night, and I said I'd like to take it at night. I've been thinking about it, and I'd rather take it in the morning. Is that still okay?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes... Was that all?"

Mrs. Copay: "That was it. Thank you!" (leaves office)

Great patient moments

Dr. Grumpy: "Pete, I want to see you back in 3 months."

Pete: "You're pretty optimistic. I'm 92."

Pay-up!

What a way to go!

Thank you, Jackie!

Holy interpreter, Batman!

Local hospital just hired a Somali interpreter, to help with Somali refugees settling in Grumpyville.

He's a nice guy, fluent in both English and Somali (Spanish and French, too), and remarkably helpful.

But, there is one issue with him.

His name (pronounced and spelled as you'd expect) is...

God.

Yup. God.

So when I'm on call, I get to say & hear things I never thought I would:

"Can someone get God on the phone?"

"Where can I find God? MRI?"

"Thank God! God is here!"

"Did you put God on hold?"

"I think God went to lunch."

"Is God out sick today?"

"If God calls back, patch him through to my cell phone."

"If anyone sees God, send him to room 7."

And my favorite: "God's in the pharmacy, talking to Jesus."

Weekend reruns

Let's take the Way-Back machine to the early-90's.

Dr. Grumpy is the medicine intern, on-call for Thanksgiving, at a large VA hospital (a veterans hospital for my non-U.S. readers, with consequently a primarily cantankerous elderly male population).

A peculiar thing about VA hospitals (at least back then, I haven't worked at one for 18 years) is that patients could sign out at the nurse's desk, and come back later (allegedly they were in the hospital because they were sick, but you need to work at one to understand this point). So the sheet was always full of notations that patients had signed out to go to McDonald's, or to buy cigarettes, or to smoke, or to visit friends at the homeless shelter, or to hold up a liquor store, or whatever.

Some bright businessman had opened a stripper club across the street from the hospital, I think it was called The Jaguar Room. So on Thanksgiving the VA ward I was covering was empty, as most of the patients had signed out to walk, wheel, or crawl over to The Jaguar Room for some female comfort and booze.

I was asleep in the intern's room when the calls began coming in. All of them from the bartender at The Jaguar Room. Questions about was it safe for my patients to be smoking through their tracheostomy tubes? Were the cardiac telemetry packs still transmitting from across the street? Was there a place at the VA where the patients could get more $1 bills, because they'd used them all up on the strippers?

And my favorite:

Bartender: "Can I give Mr. Veteran another beer?"

Intern Grumpy: "Um, what's the problem?"

Bartender: "He has one of those foley bags things, with the tube going up his dick. The bag is, like, REALLY full, and I'm afraid if I give him another beer it'll pop and send piss everywhere."

Intern Grumpy: "Send him back to the hospital."

Bartender: "Well, that's bad for business."

Intern Grumpy: "So is showering your clientele with piss."

Mr. Veteran was wheeled back over to the VA immediately, by a topless stripper no less, who waited while his bag was emptied and then pushed him back to the bar.

Found at a freakin' dollar store!

Today's post is brought to you by Information on Medigap Plans.


These are glorified RUBBER BANDS! Yet, somehow, they got labeled as both "limited edition" and "artisan."

What the hell?



























Thank you, Marie!

Memories...

 

He was widowed and in his 80's. A delightful guy.

At his 2nd appointment he brought a pie for the staff. The office girls were flattered. They invited him back to the break room to have a piece with them. He chatted with them for a while, then left.

At every visit after that he brought a pie, and each time got invited back to share it with them. It was nothing more than casual chatting and a little flirting. Pleasant older gentleman, surrounded for 15-30 minutes by several considerably younger women.

When I'm in my 80's, I want to remember the pie trick.

Descriptive speech

Mrs. Claustrophobic: "I'll do a CT scan, but not an MRI. What does a CT scan look like, anyway?"

Dr. Grumpy: "It looks like a big donut, and they put you through the hole in the middle."

Mrs. Claustrophobic: "I don't know... I don't like donuts."

Pause

Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, it looks like a big bagel, and they put you through the hole in the middle."

Mrs. Claustrophobic: "Oh, okay. I can do that."

AYFKM

Dr. Hospitalist: "Hello?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yeah, this is Grumpy, calling about Mrs. Protoplasm."

Dr. Hospitalist "The lady I consulted you on? What's up?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, from looking at her chart she was here last month for a stroke, and then a seizure, and at that time you handled it yourself and didn't consult neurology."

Dr. Hospitalist: "That's correct."

Dr. Grumpy: "So today I get a consult and find she's obtunded, terminally ill, and scheduled to go to hospice in an hour."

Dr. Hospitalist: "Yeah, family doesn't want anything done, and I think that's reasonable."

Dr. Grumpy: "So why are you consulting me NOW?"

Dr. Hospitalist: "In case there's anything else to do."

Driving home from school

Craig: "Frank, we need to talk about our secret surprise present for Mother's Day."

Frank: "Yeah?"

Craig: "You need to help more. You're not doing a fair share of the work."

Frank: "But we haven't started! You haven't even told me what we're doing for the present yet!"

Craig: "What does that have to do with it?"

Oh, I think you do

Mrs. Neun: "I'm very unhappy with you! You told my co-worker she had Multiple Sclerosis!"

Dr. Grumpy: "Sorry... Did it change your job a lot?"

Mrs. Neun: "NO! But I want to have something wrong with me, too!"

Yogurt. And nuts.

In humans, testicles tend to be more figurative than literal. When you say "he has big balls" I suspect you didn't actually LOOK at the guy's testicles. Besides, in the modern use of the term, females can be said to have balls, and I'm pretty sure they anatomically don't.

Part of the issue is that human testicles are a bit hidden at baseline, and when you add a few layers of clothes you don't see them at all (unless you have filariasis).

But all of that could change. With yogurt.

In a recently published study bound to send gangsta-rappers to the nearest dairy aisle, they found that male mice fed only yogurt developed larger and heavier testicles (5%-15% increase ) over mice on other diets. They also developed a characteristic posture of projecting their jewels outwards, which in turn gave them a "swagger" when walking. And (of course) they had better hair.

At this point I suggest you pause. Because you've probably got an image of a swaggering, big-balled, nice-haired mouse eating Yoplait listening to a megavolume boombox stuck in your head, and you'll need a minute to get over it.

Moving on.

The application of this in humans is staggering, but quite frankly I don't WANT bigger balls. I mean, walking can be klutzy enough as it is without putting more things in the way. The last thing I want is to go through life like Angus Young.*

The nicer hair I'm interested in. Hell, at this point in my life I'm interested in ANY hair. But I think I'll stick with Minoxidil.

I can see wanting to swagger here and there, like when I save the day at the hospital and don't have my cape with me (oh hell, I'm a neurologist, who am I kidding?), but I'm generally happy sitting at my desk in a quiet office. And when you spend most of the day on your rear end, bigger balls just get in the way, and you have to waste time readjusting them.

The article ended by noting that similar studies of yogurt, testicles, and "semen quality" in humans have been "consistent" with the mouse data. I have no idea who's volunteering for this. "After finishing the yogurt, take this magazine and a cup into the restroom."

Since I already have 3 kids, and would rather be comfortable at my desk, I'm glad that Diet Coke now comes with vitamins and minerals (can we have one with Minoxidil, too?). I'll get my calcium there, and leave the yogurt to those who prefer it with nuts. Big ones.


Thank you, Moose!

*If you understood the reference before clicking the link, then you're old. Like me.

Weekend reruns, part 2

A few days after the issue described yesterday, I put this letter on Dr. Pissy's desk...


Craven, Cretin, & Klutz, P.C. Attorneys at Law

November 5, 2010

I. M. Pissy, M.D.
7291 N. Headache St.
Grumpyville, CX 34611

RE: Legal Action of Grumpy vs. Pissy

Dear Dr. Pissy,

Our firm has been retained by Dr. Grumpy in a legal action against you pursuant to the events of November 1, 2010.

On that date a canine possession of yours ("Fancy") pooped in Dr. Grumpy's exam room. This is in violation of federal regulations #1, #7, and #3,748,425-A, and caused Dr. Grumpy severe emotional denoberation, mental discombobulation, odoriferous substance exposure, fulminant social embarrassment, and a bunch of other polysyllabic words.

After careful consideration of legal options, including a $10 billion lawsuit for emotional damages, we've decided on the following out-of-court settlement:

"Blackdog", a 65 lbs. canine possession of Dr. Grumpy's of undetermined genetic nature (i.e. a "mutt"), shall be allowed into YOUR exam room to poop on the floor following lunch on November 10, 2010. Laxatives will be used to ensure the settlement is equitable.

If this settlement is acceptable to you, please have your attorney call their attorney who will then call our attorney who will then notify us, and we will make the necessary arrangements to transport Blackdog.

We hope this resolves the issue. Please contact us for any questions.

Yours truly,

Oksana "Oksi" Kontin
Legal Assistant to Mr. Klutz.