While the kids get ready for breakfast

I'd like to thank my reader Greg for sending this.

And so it begins...

While I'm flying to join the rest of the Grumpy Gang (they drove ahead of me a few days ago to visit family), those of you who haven't read our previous freaking nightmares in a minivan family vacations can do so.

Spring Break, 2009

Summer Vacation, 2009

The above links will take you to the first day of each trip, and you can work forward from there.

Provided I don't hang myself in a Motel Hell, I'll be sending reports back from the front.

Annie's Desk, Tuesday Afternoon

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

Ms. DeRanged: "Yeah! I'm a patient of Dr. Grumpy's, and need to ask about my chart."

Annie: "Okay, let me look it up... What can I do for you?"

Ms. DeRanged: "When was I last there?"

Annie: "You were here just once, in December, 2009."

Ms. DeRanged: "Who do you have listed as my family doctor?"

Annie: "Looks like it was Dr. Frendly."

Ms. DeRanged: "Well he's an asshole! And I just fired him! And I don't want you to send him my chart note!"

Annie: "Okay, I'll make a note that he's not your doctor, and so we won't send him any further records."

Ms. DeRanged: "I also don't want you to send him my note from December!"

Annie: "Well, that note already went out."

Ms. DeRanged:"WHAT! HOW DARE YOU! When was that?!!!"

Annie: "The day after your visit, in December, 2009."

Ms. DeRanged: "This is ridiculous! Don't you have any respect for a patient's wishes?"

Annie: "Of course, but at that time you told us to send him a letter."

Ms. DeRanged: "But I just fired him today! I don't want you to send him a letter!"

Annie: "The letter was sent 6 months ago."

Ms. DeRanged: "Then dammit, this is YOUR problem! You get on the phone, call Dr. Frendly, and make him send it back!"

Department of the Obvious

I'd like to thank an anonymous reader for submitting another remarkable research abstract.

Basically, this study discovered that children whose parents lose their jobs are MORE likely to lose their health coverage than children of parents who DON'T lose their jobs.

For the record, I am NOT trying to make a political statement here. I'm just pointing out yet another example of insane research from the Department of Obvious Conclusions. Political comments are not the intention of this post, and will be deleted.

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My head is killing me! I'm so happy!

This magazine was sent (unsolicited) to my office recently.

In 12 years I've taken care of a lot of migraine patients. And NONE of them looked this happy about their headaches...





When someone comes into my office with that kind of look, I generally DON'T assume they need a migraine medicine. Haldol (an antipsychotic), perhaps, but not a migraine drug.

Cause & Association

Miss Payne: "I don't feel well. I think it has something to do with my new job. Maybe it's the building. All the people there seem sick."

Dr. Grumpy: "Where do you work?"

Miss Payne: "I'm a receptionist at Local Hospice."

He has eight! We can't wait!

I normally try to avoid political discussions, but today I must speak up.

Because, until now, I never thought I'd find a candidate I could support.

You may remember last week, when I ranted about those damn election signs and ended with this comment:

"On a side note, I strongly believe in the political theory proposed in "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" that anyone who actually wants to be President/Prime Minister/Chief Goombah so badly to run for the office is automatically too insane to hold the job. We need to find a way to identify the person who is least interested in the job, and then put them in charge. Just don't let them figure out what they're really doing."

When I wrote that I had no idea such a being existed. And then, yesterday afternoon, I realized one did. And therefore, I openly declare my support for Paul (no, not Ron Paul).





Yes, Paul the Octopus.

Now, some of you may be questioning the wisdom of an invertebrate mollusk taking charge of things, but lets face it: how much worse could he do?

Paul has a remarkable track record, especially considering he's only 2 years old. In this year's World Cup he predicted 7 matches with 100% accuracy. Overall, his lifetime accuracy is 86%. In that regard he's beaten all of his competitors, including Mani the parakeet and Petty the hippo. You also have to consider that Paul hasn't been wrong since June 29, 2008- how many politicians can make that claim?

Paul has shown a remarkable knack for guessing the correct solutions to international disputes- without any military force involved. Isn't it time we had a leader like this?

Paul fits the key criteria for someone who doesn't want the job. As far as I can tell from detailed research (okay, 10 minutes on Wikipedia) Paul's main ambitions in life are food and a female octopus: not money, fame, or a book deal.

Some may express concerns over Paul being from Germany, given the events of the last century. But it should be noted that Paul was hatched in England, and has voted against Germany in some soccer matches. He has no innate prejudices against any race or ethnicity (except for snails, crabs, and clams, which he eats).

So I hereby express my support to elect Paul the Octopus as Leader of the World. I suggest some slogans:

Don't be shellfish! Vote for Paul!

The true centrist (right in 4 limbs, left in 4 limbs, body in the center).

His hearts (all 3) are in the right place.

Support Paul! An invertebrate with backbone!

Sunday morning, 10:35 a.m.

"Hi, um, I want to buy a car, and am having credit problems. It looks like one of the issues is that I owe Dr. Grumpy $68.54 from an unpaid bill in 2004. Anyway, I really need this car, like, before Monday, so can I pay this today to get you to take it off my record? If someone can please call me back, I'll give you a credit card number right now, and we can settle this."

Science goes to dinner

I'd like to thank Sumdood for submitting this important research:

From the Journal Obesity:

Eating behavior and obesity at Chinese buffets.

Wansink B, Payne CR. Department of Applied Economics and Management, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, USA.

Abstract

RESULTS: Patrons with higher levels of BMI were more likely to be associated with using larger plates vs. smaller plates (OR 1.16, P < 0.01) and facing the buffet vs. side or back (OR 1.10, P < 0.001). Patrons with higher levels of BMI were less likely to be associated with using chopsticks vs. forks (OR 0.90,P < 0.05), browsing the buffet before eating vs. serving themselves immediately (OR 0.92, P < 0.001), and having a napkin on their lap vs. not having a napkin on their lap (OR 0.92, P < 0.01). Patrons with lower BMIs left more food on their plates (10.6% vs. 6.0%, P < 0.05) and chewed more per bite of food (14.8 vs. 11.9, P < 0.001).


Dr. Grumpy comments:

Now, I know some of you are rolling your eyes at this remarkable piece of research, which basically boils down to "obese people eat more than thin people". But lets think for a minute about the research methods, and what they say about the things people will do to get published:

1. Some poor sucker of a graduate student was told to hang out at the local Chinese buffet.

2. This person had to carefully watch who took what size plates, who was using chopsticks, where people had their napkins, and (most horrifically) actually had to time (was a stopwatch involved?) how long other patrons spent chewing their food.

3. After people left the restaurant (or returned to the buffet) this person had to go make notes on how much partially-eaten food was left on plates (wouldn't this attract the suspicion of other diners? Or even the place's manager?).

4. I want to know how ANYONE, fat or thin, is able to serve themselves by going down the buffet with their back to it (1st sentence of the abstract). Certainly you'll lose weight if you're not going to take food. But if you're not going to eat anything, what's the point of going to a restaurant in the first place?

5. While it's not noted in the abstract, did the department at least reimburse this poor sucker for going to the restaurant? I personally think that should be covered under the research budget. And, if multiple trips to the restaurant were required to write the paper, how much weight did the author gain (or lose) during that time?

6. Do these findings hold up at other buffet types? Like pizza, Mongolian barbecue, or Las Vegas?

7. Can I volunteer to do similar research on a cruise ship (if the department is paying for it, of course)?

Friday Afternoon Follies

And people wonder why my hairs leap off like lemmings...


Mr. Helpful: "Hospital medical records, can I help you?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Hi, this is Dr. Grumpy. I need to get an MRI report on Harry Krotch."

Mr. Helpful: "Certainly. One moment please. Which report did you need, again?"

Dr. Grumpy: "His brain MRI."

Mr. Helpful: "Which one?"

Dr. Grumpy: "How many has he had?"

Mr. Helpful: "Just one."

Dr. Grumpy: (sigh) "Yes, I need that one."

Mr. Helpful: "The one from 2003?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes."

Mr. Helpful: "The report is in storage."

Dr. Grumpy: "Is that off site?"

Mr. Helpful: "No, it's downstairs. I can get it in a few minutes."

Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, I'll take it."

Mr. Helpful: "It will be a while. I'm going to lunch now."

Alrighty, then

From another doctor's note:

"His father, mother, and all of his other parents died of cancer."

Skool Nerse Time

This is Mrs. Grumpy. I dragged the kids to the dentist today, to learn Craig has a cavity. So I went up to the gum-chewing-queen to make an appointment to deal with that.

Gum Queen: "Waddya need?"

Nurse Grumpy: "I need to make an appointment for Craig."

Gum Queen: "Okee dokee li'l smokee, when'ja wanna come back?"

Nurse Grumpy: "Next week works. What do you have then?"

Gum Queen: "We got all day. You pick."

Nurse Grumpy: "Um... How about 8:00 on Wednesday morning?"

Gum Queen: "We don't open till 9:00."

Nurse Grumpy: "Okay, how about 9:00 on Wednesday?"

Gum Queen: "We're closed next Wednesday. Doctor is out."

Nurse Grumpy: "What about Tuesday at 9:00?"

Gum Queen: "On Tuesdays we don't open until noon."

Nurse Grumpy: "Look. What do you have? Tell me when, and we can be here."

Gum Queen: "Whenever you want to come in."

Nurse Grumpy: "I've given you 3 times, and you said I couldn't. So pick a time next week, and I'll bring him in."

Gum Queen: "I don't know when you should. I'm off next week, so it's not like I'm gonna know what's going on anyway."

Nurse Grumpy: "Will someone be here next week?"

Gum Queen: "Schedule says so."

(long pause)

Nurse Grumpy: "I think I'll just call next week."

Gum Queen: "I ain't gonna be here."

Nurse Grumpy: "Yes. Have a nice day."

That brain tumor can wait 4-8 weeks, can't it?

I'd like to thank my reader Lauren, who says a neurosurgeon in her town recently faxed this letter to his referring physicians. I can only hope they have someone else to refer to.

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