What was said:
"She uses Mirtazapine, 7.5, at bedtime, which helps her sleep."
What the computer typed:
"She uses mate has a penis, 7.5, at bedtime, which helps her sleep."
Thank you, Jay!
A Blog detailing the insanity of my medical practice and the stupidity of everyday life.
What was said:
"She uses Mirtazapine, 7.5, at bedtime, which helps her sleep."
What the computer typed:
"She uses mate has a penis, 7.5, at bedtime, which helps her sleep."
Thank you, Jay!
Message left on Annie's voicemail:
"Hi, this is Jenny, uh, Belli. I work for, like, Big Law Firm, and I really am an attorney, I mean, the lawyer kind (giggles). I hear good things about your doctor, I mean everyone says so, and I was wondering if he sees patients, I mean, clients, well, I mean, my client, and if he like, does reports and things and stuff like that. You know, like, legal reports that I can use for his case. My client has a, uhmmm, what does he have, hold on, oh I am really messing this up (giggles). Oh here it is he had, like, a brain injury. So can you call me if this is okay and I can send Dr. Grumpy, you know, records and stuff, and that will explain this better. 867-5309 is my cell number, and he can, like, call me too. “
Dr. Grumpy: "How often do you get migraines?"
Ms. Thac: "About twice a week. I have one today, actually."
Dr. Grumpy: "Do they..."
Ms. Thac: "Do you mind if I take my migraine medicine here?"
Dr. Grumpy: "No, go ahead. Do you need some water?"
Ms. Thac: "No, thank you."
Takes a plastic bag and glass pipe from her purse, starts packing a bowl.
My first year at BSU I had this dumb-as-rocks dorm roommate. He wrote college reports in crayon, lost tuition checks his dad sent him, and routinely stepped on eggs our suite-mates had hidden in his shoes. Like most college guys, he was obsessed with meeting girls, but he had some, uh, non-traditional approaches.
1. Bizarre idea to meet girls #1.
Our dorm was co-ed. Odd numbered floors were women, even numbered were men.
Mike decided to bounce golf balls, LOUDLY, on the floor of our room. His
idea was that the girls who lived beneath us (and he had no idea
who they were) would then come up to our room, ask him nicely to stop,
and he could invite them in.
All that happened was they called the building office to complain, and we got written up.
I wasn't even in the room at the time.
2. Bizarre idea to meet girls #2:
This involved, I swear, the lobby vending machine that sold little
containers of milk. He noticed that a lot of women would get some milk
to study with, so he set up camp near it with a shitload of quarters.
Anytime he saw a girl going to buy some he'd get up and strike up a
conversation while waiting his turn for milk. This idea was such a
remarkable success that one night he returned to our dorm room with 18
containers of milk, out of money, and with no phone numbers. He needed
to borrow quarters from me to do his laundry that night, because he
spilled milk all over his shirt trying to drown his sorrows in
overpurchased dairy products. He also discovered he was, after a point,
lactose intolerant.
3. Definitely NOT a good way to meet girls:
Our room overlooked the lawn behind the dorm, and one spring day a lot
of pretty girls were out sunbathing. Mike watched them for a while, and
then decided to, uh, relieve some tension while doing so. For unknown
reasons he didn't realize that if he could see them, they could see him.
Mercifully, I was downstairs on the patio with friends, so anyone who
looked up and saw what was going on in my room could immediately see
that I was definitely not the person up there.
I googled him last week. He sells real estate in Nevada now.
Dr. Grumpy: "Any health changes since I last saw you?"
Mr. Otitis: "I had an ear infection, that was about it."
Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, so at your last visit I ordered an MRI of your back..."
Mr. Otitis: "It was a bad ear infection. I had to see my family doctor for it."
Dr. Grumpy: "All right, but..."
Mr. Otitis: "I mean, it was like bloody diarrhea, except it was gushing out of my ear."
I stop stirring my coffee and push it away.
Mr. Otitis: "Anyway, can we talk about my MRI?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Let's do that."
Saturday afternoon
Andy: "Local pharmacy, this is Andy."
Dr. Grumpy: "This is Dr. Grumpy, returning a page."
Andy: "Thanks for calling back, we've been trying to get a refill for Alma Childrin, on her Fuximab?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Hang on, let me look her chart up... Actually she died last month."
Pause
Andy: "So is that a no?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Have a seat... So what can I do for you?"
Ms. Calgerepep: "I'm not sure I'm in the right place... I thought I was supposed to see a brain surgeon."
Dr. Grumpy: "That's definitely not me. What were you referred for?"
Ms. Calgerepep: "I have migraines."
Dr. Grumpy: "Actually, I do handle that. You are at the right doc."
Ms. Calgerepep: "What do you do for migraines?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Well, we can get into more detail on that later, after I take your history, but there's a large number of medication options."
Ms. Calgerepep: "I don't want medications. I just want the migraines taken out."
Dr. Grumpy: "I understand that, but treatment is really more finding the right medication for each person, why don't you tell me..."
Ms. Calgerepep: "See this is why I wanted to see a brain surgeon. I want someone who can just go in there and take the migraines out."
Dr. Grumpy: "Migraine treatment doesn't work that way, unfortunately. There really isn't a specific thing to take out."
Ms. Calgerepep: "Now you're lying to me. You just want to be able to bill me, when you aren't even the right doctor. We both know I need a brain surgeon to fix them."
Dr. Grumpy: "Ma'am, I promise you that..."
Ms. Calgerepep: "You must be in this with my family doctor. I'm out of here."
She leaves, slams door.
First we have this ad. Beer (at least in my area), isn't typically sold as a "family pack."
"It's a good deal. I mean, isn't kindergarten old enough?" |
Next, from the "It may be explosive, but I'm not so sure that's a spaceship" department:
A reader who ordered take-out pizza says the box stickers made her think all the guys working in the CPK kitchen were wearing condoms:
Then there's this unappetizing-sounding menu item:
"Why don't people order our crab rangoon?" |
And, finally, a reader cleaning out some old boxes found this catchy-named catalog:
Dr. Grumpy: "Is your family doc still Dr. Stevens?"
Mrs. Unsure: "No, I had to change."
Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, who..."
Mrs. Unsure: "I think she moved away, or retired. Actually, she may be on maternity leave. I could have that mixed up. She may have died, or maybe she didn't take my insurance anymore. Anyway, it was one of those sorts of things. I'm not really sure.
Mary: "Dr. Grumpy's office, this is Mary."
Mr. Nmda: "HI! DOES YOUR OFFICE DO KETAMINE?"
Mary: "No, we don't. You might try the Ketamine center on the west side."
Mr. Nmda: "THAT'S TOO FAR TO DRIVE! DO YOU HAVE, LIKE, FREE KETAMINE SAMPLES OR ANYTHING YOU COULD GIVE ME? LIKE FROM A PROMOTIONAL THING?"
Mary: "No, that's just not something we handle in our practice."
Mr. Nmda: "IS THERE ANYONE IN YOUR BUILDING WHO HAS KETAMINE? I'M DOWN IN THE LOBBY, AND IT LOOKS LIKE THERE'S A LOT OF OFFICES HERE. SOMEBODY MUST."
Mary: "Not that I'm aware of."
Mr. Nmda: "IS THERE A BATHROOM IN THE LOBBY DOWN HERE?"
Mary: "Uh, on the west side, by the stairs and water fountain."
Mr. Nmda: "THANK YOU!"
Click
Sunday morning. 2:18 a.m.
Mr. Sleepy: "Hello?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Hi, Mr. Sleepy, this is Dr. Grumpy., we met yesterday afternoon. I'm the neurologist taking care of your mom."
Mr. Sleepy: "Ummm yeah. What time is it? You woke me up."
Dr. Grumpy: "Sorry. I called because your mom took a turn for the worse about an hour ago. As you know she had a stroke, and it looks like around 1:00 she had a serious heart problem develop. We called in a cardiology team, and I came in, too. Unfortunately, even with our best efforts, she died a few minutes ago."
Mr. Sleepy: "My mom died?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Yes, sir, the cardiologist is still in the room with nursing, but asked me to call you. He'll be out in a minute to answer..."
Mr. Sleepy: "You woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me my mom died? Are you serious?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Well, we thought..."
Mr. Sleepy: "I can't believe this. I mean, I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure that if she's dead now, she'll still be dead in the morning when you could have called me at a more decent hour."
Dr. Grumpy: "Yes, but..."
Mr. Sleepy: "Don't they teach you people common courtesy in medical school?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Sir, I..."
Mr. Sleepy: "I'm going back to bed. Tell the nurse I'll call in the morning to make arrangements."
Click.