Sunday night, 11:23 p.m.

The following message was left on my office voice mail last night:

"Hello, I'm a patient of Dr. Grumpy's. It's Sunday night, about twenty minutes after 11:00, and I'd like someone to call me back. Thank you."

That's all. Never called back with anything more helpful, like a name or phone number.

Random weekend pictures

All right, time to hit the e-mail bag of stuff you guys have sent in.


First, this was taken at an art museum in Budapest (it's actually the name of the artist being featured).

"On your right is the Sheriff Jim Clark display, and in the next hall are Ernst Zündel's works"

Next, we have this. Apparently telling someone to "go pick up paper towels" at the store is no longer enough. I had no idea the world needed this many varieties. I mean, IT'S A FUCKING PAPER TOWEL!!!

7 varieties of paper towels. For this we evolved from microbes.

Then there's this massage company, who probably should have thought out their logo a bit more carefully:

"The pun sucks, too."

Speaking of interesting signs, I have no idea what this means:

"The counter lady yelled at me. Maybe they mean bitches."

The box makes it sound like they sing, dance, and perform theater:

"I'm trying to eat, and my fork keeps doing the Macarena."

Next is an ad for a group that does bio-identical hormones. The name sounds like they're all clones.

"Did you want to see Dr. Grumpy, Dr. Grumpy, or Dr. Grumpy?"

And last, I have no idea why this company couldn't come up with a better way to say "non-allergic pet food"

"Which end of Fluffy do we put it in?"

Great Public Service Announcements

Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

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

Mrs. Sikorski: "You saw my daughter yesterday? I was at the appointment if you recall, and you started her on Migrazap?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes, I remember. Is there a problem with the medication?"

Mrs. Sikorski: "No. I'm calling because she drove back to college today, and I don't think she's getting enough sleep."

Dr. Grumpy: "Well, the medication won't affect sleep, so it..."

Mrs. Sikorski: "That's not the issue. I need you to call her and discuss how important sleep is, because it's going to affect her grades. She also needs to study more."

Dr. Grumpy: "Well, that's not really my place. I mean, she's 21 years old, and away at college, and..."

Mrs. Sikorski: "Could you at least bring it up at her appointment next month? Also, can you say a few words about her current boyfriend? I don't think he's good for her."

Annie's desk

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

Mr. Valproate: "I want to know why the doctor won't refill my seizure meds!"

Annie: "Let me see... I don't show that we have a request for that. Did you call your pharmacy?"

Mr. Valproate: "Yes! They told me they've sent it to Dr. Intern 3 times, and all she does is say that she doesn't prescribe my seizure meds. So why won't Dr. Grumpy refill it?"

Annie: "Why are they sending it to Dr. Intern? Did you ask them to fax it to Dr. Grumpy?"

Mr. Valproate: "No. Am I supposed to?"

Memories...

As readers know, my roommate for all 4 years of medical school was a guy named Enzyme.

Enzyme was about 6'3" and maybe 190 lbs. He was calm, cool, and confident, the perfect model of the U.S. Navy officer that he is today. Handsome and a ladies man. He knew how splendid he looked in his uniform. He loved the military, and didn't let anything alarm him.

Until one night.

It was, maybe, around 2:00 a.m. I'd gone to bed at midnight after giving up on studying for the day, and was in a deep sleep.

While I slumbered, deeply napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my bedroom door.

Med student Grumpy: "Hello?"

Enzyme: "Ibee, are you awake?"

Grumpy: "I am NOW. What's up?"

(silence)

Grumpy: "Are you okay?"

Enzyme: "I... Need your help."

Grumpy: "It's 2:00 a.m. What's going on?"

(silence)

Grumpy: "Enzyme?"

Enzyme: "There's a spider in my room."

Grumpy: "What?!!!"

Enzyme: "I said there's a spider in my room."

Grumpy: "What the hell? So squash it and let me sleep."

(silence)

Grumpy: "Hello?"

Enzyme: "I'm scared of spiders."

It wasn't even that big, FFS.

"Are you shitting me?"

Awesomeness

For those of you who don't follow Twitter, I'm going to have to put this up.

My random observation was good. But WhiteCoat's response made it great:

Senior citizens behaving badly

A "Neurology Update" sent out recently by MDlinx. Hazards of leaving the "T" out...

Thank you, Gene!

Postage stamps

While waiting in line at the post office yesterday, I saw this stamp in a machine:

I had a brief thought about trying trying to ask for one at the counter:

"I need a great sparkled fraternity. I mean, a freight spanked fickle lilly. No, wait, a crate mangled fritterfrilly. No? A great teutonic titterwilly? Trait-specific hereditary? Um... fate frazzled hillbilly? Razzle-dazzled pickled lorrie?

"Fuck it. I need a 70-cent stamp."

How not to get an appointment

Mary: "Okay, Mr. Suidae. Now, let me give you some forms... here's a clipboard, and a pen... I'll need to get a copy of your insurance card. Any questions?"

Mr. Suidae: "Yeah, will you go down on me?"


And no, folks, he had no neurological reason to act like that.

Beware of the Dragon

Seen in a vascular ultrasound:

"We're gonna need a really big ultrasound machine."

For non-medical readers: It should have said "left lower extremity."

Thank you, Homebru!

12:07 a.m.

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

Miss Myelin: "Hi, I'm a Multiple Sclerosis patient of yours, and I wanted you to know I'm in the emergency room. The doctor here is probably going to call you."

Dr. Grumpy: "Okay... Why did you go to ER?"

Miss Myelin: "I lost vision in my left eye. I didn't want to bother you, so I came right in. I was worried that I should get it checked out."

Dr. Grumpy: "Sounds like you did the right thing. Has the doctor seen you yet?"

Miss Myelin: "No, but they just got me back here."

Dr. Grumpy: "When did you lose vision in your eye?"

Miss Myelin: "About a month ago."

Dr. Grumpy: "A MONTH AGO? Why didn't you call me?!!!"

Miss Myelin: "Like I said, I didn't want to bother you."

Dr. Grumpy: "Did you start the MS medication, the Tyglatfiderexa, that I prescribed 2 months ago?"

Miss Myelin: "No. I don't know why you gave me that. I informed you at the first visit that I won't take narcotics."

Dr. Grumpy: "It's not a narcotic! I told you that. It's for your immune system. Who said it was a narcotic?"

Miss Myelin: "This lady I met."

Dr. Grumpy: "Is she a doctor?"

Miss Myelin: "No, she's the cashier at Qwik-Mart. But I think her boyfriend's dad is."

Back from the trenches

Frank and Craig returned yesterday from 10 days at Camp Befouled, where they did outdoors type stuff with other guys in the forests of northstate.

To the horror of all (except the boys) we discovered they were wearing the same clothes they'd left our home in 10 days earlier. And, on looking through their bags, we discovered no dirty clothes at all. Just neatly folded shirts, underwear, socks, etc. So they'd been wearing the same outfits, day and night, for 10 days.

They didn't seem to have a problem with this, but on the drive home Mrs. Grumpy and I sure did. In the high humidity of a hot day we had no choice but to keep the windows down so we wouldn't die. If I'd thought to bring some twine I might have just put them on the roof rack for the ride.

Upon getting home, even the dogs didn't want to get close to them. When you smell so awful your dog isn't interested... That's really bad.

We immediately directed them to the shower closest to the garage.

Weekend reruns

Dr. Unka is in my office building. When he refers a patient to me, he often walks them upstairs to my office and waits with them up front (while his own waiting room backs up) until Mary has scheduled the patient. He often asks that I drop everything I'm doing to come meet his new referral, instead of just, say, having them call us to make an appointment.

So today Mary grabbed me to say Dr. Unka was up front, and wanted me to come meet a new patient. So I excused myself from my current patient and went up front, to see him standing there with a familiar, somewhat irritated-looking, older lady.


Dr. Unka: "Ibee, I'd like you to meet Mrs. Ancient. I'm referring her for memory loss."

Dr. Grumpy: "Uh, I saw Mrs. Ancient 3 weeks ago for that."

Mrs. Ancient (glaring at Dr. Unka): "I told you! Why didn't you listen to me?"

Dr. Unka: "She did?"

Mrs. Ancient: "Yes!"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes, I sent you a note."

Dr. Unka: "You did?"

Mrs. Ancient: "Yes! He did! It was even in my chart at your office! I pointed it out to you!"

Dr. Unka: "You did? Um, I mean, then have her make a follow-up." (leaves my office).


So, in this situation, who REALLY needs to be seeing the neurologist?