Dr. Grumpy's gift guide

You're a medical student on a gastroenterology rotation, watching a colonoscopy. As the camera snakes up some guy's nether regions, the attending suddenly points to the monitor, turns to you, and says "does that look normal?"

Of course, you have no fucking clue (neither did I, but there are reasons I'm a neurologist). So what do you do? Well, now you can just quickly check your iPhone!

These attractive iPhone cases come in a wide variety of pathology (normal is above) including inflammation, diverticulitis, malignant, pre-malignant, Crohn's disease, and many more! With this helpful guide, your biggest issue will be finding a way to change phone cases quickly without the attending noticing.

NOTE: Dr. Grumpy is not responsible for you failing the rotation, not clinching the GI fellowship you wanted, or getting GoLytely and shit on your iPhone.

Dr. Grumpy's gift guide

Love cupcakes? Who doesn't? (okay, I'm not fond of them, but am in the minority).

What could make a cupcake even more appetizing than it already is? More frosting? Sprinkles? Realistic sores from sexually-transmitted diseases?

Mmmmm... chancres.

These delectable "clapcakes" are available in Gonorrhea, Syphilis, Herpes, and, um, a handful of other reasons to use condoms.

Bon Appetit!

Mary's desk, December, 2013

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

Dr. Manding: "Hi, this is Dr. Dee Manding, and I need Dr. Grumpy to order a STAT brain MRI on me."

Mary: "Hang on... I'm not seeing you in our system. Are you a patient?"

Dr. Manding: "No, I'm a doctor. I just moved here. And I need an urgent MRI. They won't let me order it myself, so I need your doctor to do it."

Mary: "Okay, I can run this by him, but if you're not an established patient we can't order tests on you."

Dr. Manding: "I can't believe this. I'm a doctor!"

Mary: "What do you need the MRI for? I can check with him and..."

Dr. Manding: "How DARE you ask me that! I'm a doctor! If I say I need an urgent MRI, that should be good enough for you!"

Mary: "Let me go ask Dr. Grumpy."

(goes and finds me, I agree with her. I've never heard of this person)

Mary: "Okay, Dr. Manding. I spoke to Dr. Grumpy, and he says that unless you're a patient he can't order tests on you. You're welcome to come in for an appointment, though. We can see you tomorrow morning at 9:30, or..."

Dr. Manding: "I wouldn't come see Dr. Grumpy at all with this level of service. I'm a doctor, and deserve better."

Click

Dr. Grumpy's gift guide

Going to Nazi-themed dinner parties can be so awkward. The silverware is always a problem, as I never remember if I can mix Abwehr forks with Wehrmacht spoons, or if I'm supposed to butter pumpernickel with my Kriegsmarine or Luftwaffe knife.

I'm sure all of us encounter this problem regularly, and my fears of causing a serious breach of etiquette used to keep me from going.

But no more!

With this useful guide YOU VILL know which Gestapo fork is for eating strudel, what type of spoon to use for stirring kaffee, and the proper knife for cutting schnitzel.

Or else.

Come on, baby, light my fire

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

Mr. McGee: "Hi, my wife saw Dr. Grumpy about a month ago, and he started her on a new medication."

Annie: "Okay, let me look at the chart... Looks like it was Lotsix."

Mr. McGee: "Yeah, that's it. Anyway, she's been much more confused since starting this, and I'd like to stop it if we can."

Annie: "What's she been doing?"

Mr. McGee: "Well, she's obsessively setting things on fire, and..."

Annie: "Uh, did you just say she's setting things on fire?"

Mr. McGee: "Yes, all the time. Clothes, walls, furniture, at least 2 or 3 times a day I catch her trying to light something. I've gotten rid of all the lighters and matches around, but she always seems to find more. She's never done this before, and the fire department is getting tired of coming to our house. This morning they suggested I call you guys to discuss this."

Annie: "I'd definitely stop it. Immediately. This has been going on for a month with her lighting things? Why didn't you call sooner?"

Mr. McGee: "I figured she'd get used to it."

Dr. Grumpy's gift guide

You've perfected your sexy pole-dancing moves, but none of your local strip bars are currently hiring. What's a girl to do? You have to earn a living.

Now, for only $499, you can take your show on the road with the trailer-hitch dancing pole! No smoky bar needed! Pull up to a skanky street corner and start the show!

The stage supports up to 200 lbs. Dollar bill storage box and stereo & light systems not included.

Dr. Grumpy's Gift Guide

Regrettably, these fine outfits aren't as easily available as they were in the 1970's. But I'm featuring them anyway, as a throwback to how REAL men used to dress, before the most important thing was whether or not you had an iPhone pocket.

I wonder if the hats were included.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Dr. Grumpy: "Any triggers to your headaches?"

Mr. Coriolis: "They only occur when the barometric pressure drops."

Dr. Grumpy: "And what medications..."

Mr. Coriolis: "See, I began tracking barometric pressure with an iPhone app, comparing it to my headache diary" (takes out a notebook) "and here are some graphs I made up. I downloaded the barometric pressures of cities I've been in going back 38 years, to when I was born, and then I graphed them against..."

Dr. Grumpy's gift guide

How many times a day do you find yourself wondering "Gee, how many eggs do I have at home?" 5? 10? 78?

If you're like me, you really don't care. But, if this a subject of serious importance to you,  it creates a real dilemma. I mean, if you're at the store, you can always hedge your bets and buy more eggs, but what if you get home and find you already have some? Then you have more eggs than you need, taking up space you could be chilling Diet Coke in.

By the same token, you can NOT buy them, then get home and find you're out. And now your plans to serve cheese omelets at the formal dinner party are in disarray.

Sure, you can always call home and ask someone, but if your kids are like mine they won't look. They'll set the phone down, play Metroid for 2 minutes, then pick it up and give me a made-up number.

But now... THE PROBLEM IS SOLVED!!!

The Egg Minder is the latest in modern chicken ovum tracking devices. It's a computerized egg tray that keeps count of how many eggs are left and which one is the oldest. AND you can access this valuable data from your smartphone anytime! It will even send you a push notification when you're running low. So you never have to have an "OMG HOW MANY EGGS ARE LEFT AT HOME?!!!" panic attack ever again.

It also holds 14 eggs. Since they're generally sold in multiples of 12, those with OCD will need to buy 7 dozen eggs and 6 Egg Minders to get a perfect fit. And then you just know you'll drop one while transferring them.

Paging Dr. Yossarian

Yesterday I received this fax from a pharmacy company. As best I understand it, they don't authorize the drug involved... So to get it covered I need to call...

The telltale cup

Rick was my resident for a month during internship. He was notoriously lazy. The last to arrive for a code, the first to leave after call, and never seeming to be around when you needed him.

He wasn't the kind of lazy who intentionally dumped work on others. He didn't see why anyone had to do it, and encouraged me and the other intern, Karen, not to do things either. As a result Karen and I spent a few days getting reamed out by attendings until we figured out NOT to follow Rick's instructions on ignoring labs, med sheets, exam findings, etc.

Rick, as these people always are, didn't feel he was the problem.

Anyway, one day my team was on call, which meant we were responsible for all codes, with Rick being the one who had to run them. Around mid-day there was a code on the 7th floor. Karen and I were both in ER doing admissions, but immediately dropped everything, and (big surprise) got to the room before him. We were frantically trying to remember our ACLS drills when a cardiologist ran in, then the chief resident, pretty much tossing us out.

After a few minutes Rick, the guy who was supposed to be running the code, came in. He was pretending to be panting (not a drop of sweat on him) saying he'd run all the way up the stairs from the lobby coffee place.

He was carrying a styrofoam cup filled to the brim with steaming coffee.

Without a lid.

And he hadn't spilled a drop en route to the code. Not a single brown dribble mark on the sides.

Dr. Grumpy's gift guide

As the Earth continues its trip around the sun, the holidays are again approaching. And with them, of course, the annual Dr. Grumpy Gift Guide!

I'd like to kick things off this year with something truly meaningful, special, and unique.

Chocolates have long been a way of telling that special person how you truly feel. Sometimes, of course, we encounter someone who's special in an entirely different way. When this happens we wonder "What can I give this person to convey my true feelings to them?"

The answer, of course, is this: A chocolate asshole!

Yes, the folks at Edible Anus purvey the finest in anally-shaped candies, using only pure Belgian chocolate. These delectable assholes are available in milk, dark, and white chocolate, and are handmade in England.

For that truly special person you can also order sterling silver assholes. They also have glass ones. I am not making this up.

The tagline on their site is "The anus that made Britain great." I'll defer any commentary on that to my readers across the pond.

Running errands on Black Friday

Dr. Grumpy: "Oh... Look at that. The Okra Haus restaurant is closed. It looks like they're tearing it down."

Marie: "Oh, no! I hated that place!"

Dr. Grumpy: "Then I'd think you'd be happy it's gone."

Marie: "Yeah, but now I need to find another place to despise."

Thanksgiving

This is the Gray Wolf

"You want a piece of me?"

One of evolution's most successful designs, to this day it's a feared predator across the planet. Its range covers most of the northern hemisphere. One subspecies, the Yukon Wolf, is the largest living wild canid today. They're ferocious hunters.

What makes Gray Wolves so incredibly successful is their social nature. Their intelligence makes them clever, capable of adapting to new situations and prey. They hunt in packs, which allows them to bring down animals much larger than they individually are. Bison. Moose. Musk Ox. They have an impressive array of teeth and powerful jaw muscles that can crack large bones.

"We have sharp teeth for a reason, Phil. Let's use them."

And, somewhere around 30,000 years ago, this social tendency led to them becoming oddly intertwined with a primate species that was gradually spreading across the planet. A branch off the Gray Wolves became hunting partners, guards, and companions. Each species learning from the other in a remarkably successful relationship that continues to this day.

Still vicious. Still wild. Still... Oh, who am I kidding.

This is the modern wolf. From dangerous hunter to pillow for video-game-playing ape.

Her hunting ancestors must be horrified.

Life with dogs. It just doesn't get any better.