Here's some items that I've recently encountered in medical charts.
First, from the "she looks good for her age" category:
Next from the "that narrows it down" department:
"How vague can you get?"
Apparently time and chief complaint are now interchangeable:
And lastly, this helpful system telling me that an accountant will be making care decisions instead of me, no matter what I choose.
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This is Frank.
As you guys know, for a little over a year I've been working as a courtesy clerk at Local Grocery, bagging purchases, collecting carts, and dealing with the public.
In that year, which rapidly became the most insane year any of us could have imagined, me and my co-workers have faced toilet paper wars, fights over cans of beans and bottles of hand sanitizer, and assholes who feel they need to scream at a guy collecting shopping carts for minimum wage about mask requirements.
But nothing - and I mean nothing - could have prepared me for what happened last week.
I was working the afternoon shift, bagging groceries as people came through. An endless stream of produce, canned stuff, frozen food, whatever, which I'm tossing into bags and trying not to smash anything. Fill a bag with 5 items, turn, put it in the cart, wash, rinse, repeat.
And then... it happened.
As I leaned forward to bag a lady's purchase, somehow, without me noticing it, part of my work shorts got hooked on the metal piece that holds the empties up.
When I turned to put the bag in her cart... RRRRRIPPPPPPPPPPPP.
The lady dropped her sunglasses.
The guy behind her stopped talking on his phone.
I was so zoned into grocery-bagging-autopilot that I didn't even realize what had happened until the cashier I was working with yelled "OH MY GOD! FRANK!" as she dropped the handheld scanner.
I looked down. This is pretty much what everyone saw:
My manager looked over when he heard the cashier scream. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the intercom mic and yelled for anyone working back in deli to bring an apron up front, like, NOW!
Unfortunately, while this would (sort of) solve the problem, it also resulted in all the customers at check-out suddenly looking around to see why an apron was needed so urgently, as I covered my tighty whities with a plastic bag of frozen pizza dough, asparagus, and 2 cans of minestrone.
The sunglasses were okay.
The handheld scanner was also okay.
My dad ran to Target to get me another pair of shorts.
They let me wear the apron home that night.
After a drug comes to market, a lot can still go wrong. Even though it's been carefully tested, there are sometimes side effects, possibly serious, that won't be found until a large number of people have been on it.
So every drug company out there has a website and phone number where people can contact them to report side effects they've experienced. When this happens the company gets in touch with the physician involved for details.
Last week I put Mrs. Busybody on a new medication. She took her first dose a few hours before her neighbors hosted a large wedding at their home, complete with a live band in the backyard and a DJ in the garage, blasting merrymakers with tunes until the wee hours of the morning.
Mrs. Busybody wasn't invited.
So, of course, sometime after midnight she wandered down the hall to her computer, to contact the drug manufacturer.
When I came in on Monday morning, the drug company's "Adverse Event Reporting" form was sitting on my fax machine, wanting more information on this:
Growing up we were in a group of 3 families that did a lot together. Vacations, holidays, barbecues... the usual. Inevitably, this sort of thing leads to a lot of pranks.
And in the summer of 1975, a truly great one happened.
That year my family was moving from central city to suburb area, with all the usual preparations that entails. Because of the distance we wouldn't be able to keep our old phone number (people back then ONLY had landlines, young ones).
The other 2 moms in our 3-family group did something awful.
They printed up flyers on colored paper. It's been 46 years since then, so my memory isn't exact. But it said something like this:
"Due to my personality defects and physical shortcomings, I have no friends. Since I am relocating out of state, I am throwing a final, huge, party at my house. Food, drinks, and entertainment provided. Please call to RSVP and get the address."
And it had our home phone number.
They took the flyers to the city's largest mall, and handed them out everywhere. They put them on car windshields in parking lots. They stood at the bottoms of escalators and gave one to anyone who stepped off.
My parents were taken entirely by surprise when the home phone went wild. Call after call after call. Everyone wanted to come to the huge party that we weren't having. The phones back then couldn't be unplugged easily, either, as they were generally hardwired into the wall.
My Dad finally took all our phones off the hook, wrapped the receivers in towels to muffle the "phone off the hook screech" and put them in drawers. My parents thought it was some insane mistake until their friends confessed.
The phone kept ringing insanely until it was turned off when we moved the next week.
Okay, time to hit the mailbag for stuff you guys have sent in.
First is this, seen at a grocery store:
I mean, what have they improved here? Does it have 4 legs? 3 wings? Is the bird all white meat only? Also, does that mean the old, unimproved, chicken they were selling last week wasn't edible?
Next, for those who don't want improved chicken, but prefer it environmentally friendly, is this. Which, the more I think about it, sounds even worse...
For those who like their tote bags haunted:
Then there's this sales claim, because the world "surge" isn't scary enough as it is:
And, lastly, is this ad, long ago noting the benefits of not just drinking Coke, but doing so from a cup and saucer, with a spoon on the side (given the history of Coke, the spoon could mean a lot...).
