Memories...

One of my favorite drug reps asked me to share a story from the early days of her career.


I was calling on a cardiologist's office. They said the doctor needed samples, and would be out in a few minutes to sign for them.

Being a rep is a LOT of waiting in lobbies, and I'm used to it. There was a sweet looking elderly lady in a chair, who'd been asleep when I came in. When I was talking to the front desk she woke up, and when I stepped away said "that's a beautiful necklace."

It's my grandmother's necklace, and is an unusual piece. I'm quite proud of it. She asked me the story behind it, so I sat down  and chatted with her for a few minutes. Then I had to take a call from my partner. She picked up a magazine, but quickly dozed off again.

A few minutes went by, a patient left, and the doctor came up front. He signed for my samples, then cheerily called "Mrs. Dozer, come on back!"

Mrs. Dozer, however, was still asleep. The good doctor said "Can you give her a gentle tap? She's quite hard of hearing."

So I went over and softly shook her shoulder. "Mrs. Dozer, time for your appointment."

She fell, limply, out of the chair.

The doctor leaped over the front desk into the lobby and yelled for his nurse to call 911. In spite of his heroic efforts, however, Mrs. Dozer was gone.

I called my boss and told her I was going home. I didn't go back to work the next day, either. And I still have a visceral reaction when an elderly patient asks about my necklace.

Dear Kids,

While mom and I appreciate your efforts to save money, judging from your homework table I think things have gone a little too far:

Quarter added for scale

 We can, I assure you, afford to buy new pencils.

On call, Sunday morning, 2:38 a.m.

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

Mrs. Insomnia: "Hi, I'm a patient of Dr. Brain, I saw him once, about 5 years ago."

Dr. Grumpy: "What can I do for you?"

Mrs. Insomnia: "Well for the last year or two I've been a little forgetful. You know, losing my keys, or going into a room and forgetting why I went there."

Dr. Grumpy: "Okay..."

Mrs. Insomnia: "I had dinner with my daughter tonight, and she suggested that maybe somewhere in that time I might have had a stroke. I didn't think much of it, but now I'm really wondering, and thought I better call Dr. Brain to see if I should go to the emergency room."

Dr. Grumpy: "How long did you say this has been going on?"

Mrs. Insomnia: "At least one year, maybe two."

Dr. Grumpy: "I'd just call Dr. Brain on Monday."

(mumbled conversation in background)

Mrs. Insomnia: "My daughter thinks I should go to ER, and she should know, because she works for a dentist. Anyway, we're on our way there now."

Ummmmmm...

While browsing Google books yesterday I noticed this:

Stayin' Alive!

Seen in a hospital chart:


"She was subsequently discharged from hospice care due to failure of her symptoms to progress."

Tales from the trenches

Dr. Coogie writes in:

This morning I was on the computer, reading overnight notes on my patients. These were the nursing notes on one guy:

00:23  Patient yelled at nurse for pushing Dilaudid "too slow."

01:00  Patient running up & down hall yelling for more Dilaudid.

01:25  Patient called nurse an ugly bitch because she hadn't pushed Dilaudid faster.

02:00  Patient apologized for calling nurse an ugly bitch and asked for more Dilaudid. When informed he could only have it within the schedule set by pain management, he called her an ugly bitch again.

02:10  Patient ran to another nurse's station trying to get more Dilaudid.

02:30 Patient yelled at nurse for giving Dilaudid too slow, said "It's like giving me low octane fuel instead of high octane fuel."

02:40 On call physician notified of patient's behavior.


02:49 Patient seen by on-call physician, who informed the patient he would not be getting more pain medication than the pain specialists recommended.

03:40  Pt escorted back to room by security, who found him downstairs in ER demanding Dilaudid from staff there.



I absolutely LOVE this nurse.  I ran up and gave her a high-five before shift change.

Advice

Dr. Grumpy: "So, at your last visit I prescribed Quiloxitab for the symptoms. How's that working?"

Mr. Rummage: "Actually, I never took it. I decided to try herbal Oil de Baculum instead."

Dr. Grumpy: "Has it helped?"

Mr. Rummage: "Not yet, but the guy who told me to said it can take a few months."

Dr. Grumpy: "Is he a doctor?"

Mr. Rummage: "Not sure. My wife and I were out looking for a used suitcase this weekend, and he was having a garage sale."

"Old lamps, some dishes, paperbacks, medical advice... We got it all."

That should do it

Seen yesterday afternoon in a hospital chart:

For non-medical readers: the effective sedating dose of Valium is typically 5mg-10mg.

Red, Red, Wine

Dear Western Intermountain Neurological Organization,

A reader kindly forwarded your recent conference invitation.

I have to say, I had no idea the "intermountain" states even had their own neurology organization. Why such an organization is necessary is beyond me, as I'm not aware of groups such as "Neurological Association of States that begin with an N" or "United Neurologists of Civil War Border States" or even "Neurologists Organized in Cities with Fewer than 10 Letters in Their Names."

But, I digress.

Anyway, what caught my eye on the invite was your acronym:

Generally, a title like that doesn't bring up images of a bunch of neurologists sitting in a darkened lecture hall learning about the latest research in mitochondrial disorders. Liver transplants, maybe.

Your site name, winomeeting.org, isn't bad, either. Sounds like an organization I'm ready to join after a crappy day at work. Or night on call. Or... Screw it, I'm ready to join now, provided your standards are above Night Train Express and Thunderbird. But I'm willing to negotiate.

I see this year's meeting is being held in Salt Lake City, generally not a place I think of for its widespread availability of alcoholic beverages. The last time I was there (2012) I saw a bleary-eyed dude standing on a street corner drinking from a bottle wrapped in a paper bag... and it was milk. I'm guessing he was an RM re-adjusting to big city life.

Your site says the meeting will "stimulate your thinking" and that my $150 registration fee includes breakfast and lunch. Will funeral potatoes be served? Fry Sauce? Green Jello? It would also be helpful if you noted what stimulants and beverage vintages are included with the meals, preferably ones I can mix with Diet Coke.

The idea of a room full of docs wearing nametags that say "WINO" is also entertaining. Especially if the featured speaker is unshaven, slurring, shabbily dressed, and tremulous.

The site also has this price list:

I have no idea which companies want to set up a booth at a WINO meeting, but I'd love to see what they're wearing. I'm imagining guys who look like they just spent the night sleeping on a bench in Temple Square (but without the black name tag) sampling beverages that can double as lighter fluid. Also, I think it would be cool to watch sales reps for Campral and Two Buck Chuck working the crowd together.

Lastly, while I don't live anywhere near a mountain, I'd still like to join your organization. Because nothing would be more impressive than to have a framed certificate that says "WINO" in big letters hanging amongst my diplomas.

It may actually improve my Yelp ratings.

Thank you, Mike!

Weekend 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 to the office, and there were a lot of leftovers. So this afternoon I grabbed a bag out of the cabinet (with the Big Pharma, Inc. logo on it), tossed the leftovers in, and headed for my car.

Passing a cardiologist's office on my way to the elevator, a 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. Rep looking at me, horrified. "Excuse me?" I said.

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

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

Ms. Rep: "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) "You don't even have a 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 our cardiology marketing division."

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

Stacey, from the cardiology marketing division, somehow looked even more horrified now. 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.

In that case, I think you're publishable

Patient quote of the day:

"I'm allergic to all known amino acids and proteins."

"Swordfish"

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

Mr. Beef: "Hi, I need to get in today."

Mary: "We have nothing today. But tomorrow..."

Mr. Beef: "But I want to be seen today!"

Mary: "We're completely booked."

Mr. Beef: "But don't you have secret slots? Like the secret menu at Arby's or something? Is there a password?"

Hawaiian vacation, day 11

Sigh. Today we packed up and headed back to reality, work, and jobs.

The dichotomy at the Maui airport is striking. People getting off planes, bubbly and thrilled to be on vacation, and a sullen-looking group sitting quietly at the departure gates waiting to go home. Even the relaxed restroom picture stick people seem to be mocking you.

While walking along I noticed that a local gynecologist had set up shop in the terminal:

"What on Earth is going on in there?!!!"

Better yet, it was the mens room:

"Okay, now I'm REALLY confused."

 The flight home was quiet. But it brings you back to what really makes your family whole again.
 

And that's the way it is. Aloha!

Hawaiian vacation, day 10

My favorite memory from my first Maui trip (1973) is of a dog.

Dad was driving us down some side street while Mom looked at a map (yes, kids, that's what people did before GPS). As we rolled along, we came to a Golden Retriever lying across the middle of the road. The street was narrow, with no way around him.

So Dad drove on, figuring at some point the dog would get out of the way. No such luck. He was, apparently, quite comfortable.

As we approached, Fido raised his head off the ground to look the car over... Then put it back down.

Dad stuck his head out the window and yelled. No response.

He honked the horn several times. Fido's left ear twitched.

Finally, Mom got out of the car and went around to nudge him. He rolled over on his back with an "OH BOY! YOU'RE GOING TO RUB MY BELLY" look.

Finally, Dad gave up. He backed slowly out of the side street and turned around to find another route. My sister and I watched as a bird landed on the sidewalk and Fido took off after it.

As it turns out, this is pretty much the way dogs are on Maui. Nothing fazes them. No matter how laid back you think your dog is, a dog on Maui will make him seem high-strung. They are remarkably mellow. The scuba place we dived with had a dog named Sarge, who pretty much had the run of the strip mall.

He spent the day wandering around the parking lot and in & out shops there, and no one cared. In fact, he seemed to have a small fan club, like the postman and others, who tossed him treats as they went by.

Equally important, he also provided surrogate dog services to people whose pets were back home. And was more than happy to do so.

Marie and Sarge. He looks vicious, huh?

After scuba diving, Marie asked if we could go to Subway for lunch. Marie's favorite sandwich there (roast beef, tuna, and cheese) always raises a few eyebrows.

Counter lady: "What can I get you?"

Marie: "I'll have roast beef and tuna, with cheese."

Counter lady: "Sorry. Can't do that. It's against company policy to combine roast beef and tuna."

Marie: "But I get that at home"

Counter Lady: "Well, they should know better."

Marie: "You can't do it?"

Counter Lady: "No. It's probably a health code violation or something, too."

Marie: "Let's go, Daddy."


We ended up down the street at L&L for a plate lunch.This is a Hawaiian thing. Regardless of what you order, it always comes with 2 scoops of white rice and one of macaroni salad.

Down the street from our condo is a restaurant with the unusual name of Slappy Cakes. This immediately brings to mind an image of getting smacked by the hostess when you go in.

Curious, I looked them up online. The theme is that you cook your own pancakes. I, personally, have never understood this concept. If I'm going out to eat, I'm paying for you to make it for me. I'll stay home if I want to cook.

The setup consists of a large griddle set in the middle of each table, making me imagine someone getting 3rd degree burns while passing the syrup. Their menu, however, does list the admirable feature of serving cocktails at breakfast for those who like to watch Matt Lauer while blitzed. One is called the "Slappy Screw," which sounds like something a guy would spend $50 on in the Honolulu red-light district.

They also feature such heart-healthy fare as chicken-fried bacon and pork-belly benedict. Like every place here, they also have a Loco Moco (called the Slappy Moco). This is a pile of white rice, with a hamburger patty on top, then mushroom gravy, then a fried egg.

At the bottom of Slappy's menu is this great "We told you so, so don't sue us" legal disclaimer:

Tabletop griddles are hot! Please use carefully at your own risk. For safety reasons, children must stay seated and not reach across griddle. 

Because, you know, small children ALWAYS do exactly as they're told.


This afternoon, while hanging out in the lobby, Frank wandered over to one of those tourist brochure displays. After a few minutes he pulled one out, brought it over to me, and asked "Dad, can we go to this luau?"

Dude. I'd be staring, too.

This is part of the fun of traveling with teenage boys. Pretty much EVERYTHING gets their attention. Even ceiling lights.

And that's the lei it is.


Disclaimer - none of the above restaurants paid me to write about them. But I am, however, for sale. Someone, please, buy me.