Today's criminal tip

When trying to use a stolen credit card, don't hand it to the guy you just stole it from.

Thank you, Don!

Behavior

The twins, for whatever reason, are both running for student council this year. Elections are next week.

Last night they had to attend a mandatory "election rules" class. So, while Mrs. Grumpy picked up Frank from jail the bus stop, I took Craig and Marie to the meeting.

(There were some touchy issues. Craig's Hair, his running mate, had threatened to leave the ticket in a dispute over the newest member of his entourage, Craig's Cast, recently receiving more attention. The situation was defused by an agreement that Craig's Cast will be removed in 4 weeks. Craig's hair has now agreed to stay onboard for another 20 years, after which it will have the option of leaving at its own discretion and be replaced by Craig's Cheap Rug.)

Anyway, all kids were required to shake hands with the people they're running against, and then the following points were covered:

1. Keep it positive.

2. No negative statements. Give people a reason to vote for you, NOT a reason to vote against your opponent.

3. Don't make promises you know you can't keep.

4. Stick to the real issues (I have no idea what "real issues" there are in student council).

5. Be honest.

6. No screaming, blaming, or finger-pointing.

7. Be a good sport.

8. All campaign posters must be removed by the end of the day after the election.


I know I've touched on this before. And listening to the talk, I wonder: Why can't we do this on a national level? What the hell kind of world is it where grown-ups behave worse than kids? Aren't we supposed to be the ones setting a good example?

I still like my idea of a reality show called "Modern Sandbox:" Politicians who espouse screaming and yelling at the opposition will be dropped into a desert with an equal number of equally stubborn people from the other side, under circumstances where their mutual survival depends on finding ways to work together and be polite. Advertising revenue and T-shirt sales will go toward the national debt.

Serious WTF*ckery

Words fail me.

Dedication

Dr. Grumpy: "How you doing? You look tired."

Mrs. Colostrum: "It was a long night."

Dr. Grumpy: "Aren't you supposed to have your baby soon?"

Mrs. Colostrum: "Yeah, I delivered her this morning."

Dr. Grumpy: "THIS MORNING?"

Mrs. Colostrum: "Yeah, at Local Hospital next door."

Dr. Grumpy: "And they discharged you already?!!!"

Mrs. Colostrum: "Oh, no." (opens jacket, shows hospital gown underneath) "I just hate to miss scheduled appointments, so I walked over to your office. They think I'm at the gift shop."

Today's contest

Okay, folks, since Dr. Killpatient gave me the idea...

A catalog pushing Halloween-themed nursing scrubs was lying around the hospital yesterday, with this picture on the cover:

So let's see what captions you guys can come up with. I'll toss out a few:


"Dr. Grumpy is sending a patient to the ER!"

"Dr. No Bullshit is on vacation again!"

"Shipping charges on Halloween scrubs are how much?!!!"

Mary's desk

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

Mr. Bling: "Yeah, this is Mr. Bling, and I need to make an appointment to see Dr. Grumpy."

Mary: "Mr. Bling, you sent us a letter 2 weeks ago saying you were firing Dr. Grumpy, and wrote a number of unkind things about him."

Mr. Bling: "Yeah, I know. But I decided it's too much of a pain to find another neurologist."

Mary: "I'm sorry, sir, but our policy is that once a patient has dismissed us, we won't take them back. It's just not good for the doctor-patient relationship after that."

Mr. Bling: "That's bullshit! I need a neurologist, and you're refusing to see me! I don't have time to find another one."

Mary: "Sir, you should have thought of that before you fired Dr. Grumpy."

Mr. Bling: "See, it's reasons like this that I fired you guys in the first place."

Hangs up.

Saturday at the park

Dr. Grumpy: "What's going on? Why are you fighting?"

Craig: "FRANK ATE ALL THE BROWNIES!!!

Marie: "YEAH! I PACKED 3 BROWNIES FOR US TO HAVE AS SNACKS AND HE ATE ALL OF THEM!"

Dr. Grumpy: "Frank, did you eat all the brownies?"

Frank (with chocolate all over his face) "Mmmph. Yeah, but I had to."

Dr. Grumpy: "Why?"

Frank: "Because! Look at this wrapper! They all expired last month, so it wasn't safe for them to eat! I did it to make sure they'd be okay."

Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more

Dr. Grumpy: "Anything that makes the symptoms worse?"

Miss Carpal. "Um... I'd say the hand falls asleep whenever I'm holding long, slender, objects."

Rebuttal

In late July I re-ran my "Dr. Worthless" post, about the (alleged) migraine specialist who didn't do shit for one of my patients.

On August 28, nearly a month after I put it up, the following comment was posted:

"Dr Worthless: Pretty much every neurologist in my metropolitan area. I am sick and tired of managing issues that fall into the realm of neurology because of the laziness of your specialty. I really miss the days when a neurologist could actually make a diagnosis without an MRI."

Here is my rebuttal:

Dear Dr. Whoever You Are:

Thank you for kindly painting all neurologists with the same brush.

I'm sorry some in your area aren't up to your personal standards in work ethics. By a similar definition I know some "lazy" internists who seem to feel that I should be treating bladder infections, sinus problems, or foot ulcers simply on the grounds that the patients also have a neurological disorder, and therefore tell them to call me for their general medicine needs. So I suppose I could say I'm sick and tired of managing issues that fall into the realm of general medicine because of the laziness of your specialty.

But I won't do that. To make generalizations based on 1 or 2 people is what leads to idiotic stereotypes. I'm sorry you feel that way based on the few neurologists you've encountered. So stop referring to them and find others.

Please try to keep in mind that medicine is a team sport. When you view other doctors (or nurses, or whatever) as the opposition, the only person who really loses is the patient.

Diagnosing people without an MRI is fairly easy. I (and many other hard-working neurologists) do it every day. Bear in mind that many neurological conditions (migraines, Parkinson's disease, epilepsy, Bell's palsy, and Alzheimer's disease, to name a few) are clinical diagnoses. This means they're based on what the doctor thinks after taking a history and doing an exam. The purpose of MRI's (which, I admit, are often overused) is usually to exclude other causes, rather than confirm the diagnosis.

MRI's, like all forms of technology, are like genies. You can't put them back in the bottle. If you don't like it, perhaps you should consider going back to the days when an internist could actually make a diagnosis without a CBC. Or CMP. Or stethoscope (after all, in 1840 the flexible binaural stethoscope was cutting edge). MRI's may be overused, but I find them to be more effective at excluding/confirming serious neurological disorders than sacrificing chickens over the patient and dancing naked under the moon.

I'm going to guess that you've never been sued (I have). Nowadays you can get legally reamed out for NOT ordering tests, regardless of any guidelines that say it's fine not to do them. You can tell me that I'm practicing defensive medicine, and guess what? I don't care. If doing everything I can to protect my family and my livelihood is being lazy, than so be it.

Ordering a test often has more to do with CYA than diagnostics in ANY branch of medicine. If you have some magic power that exempts you from legal action and allows you to make 100% accurate diagnoses without using that newfangled stuff, than you have my respect for being a better physician than little old me.

Yours truly,

Ibee Grumpy, M.D.

Germ theory

Mr. Bassi: "I'm surprised I caught a cold. I've been washing my hands a lot."

Dr. Grumpy: "These things can spread through the air, too."

Mr. Bassi: "Yeah, but I was hoping the washing would help me ward off anything."

Dr. Grumpy: "What do you mean?"

Mr. Bassi: "Well, they say washing hands helps prevent disease."

Dr. Grumpy: "That's true..."

Mr. Bassi: "Isn't it because water and soap boost your immune system?"

Why do I see this causing trouble?

I just know I'll hear:

"Well, I read an article about it, so I took mine out and rubbed it all over my forehead. But it didn't make the migraine any better, and the other people on the subway all started staring at me." *

*Admittedly, I've seen far stranger things while riding the Grumpyville Subway System.

Back-to-school reruns

Dr. Grumpy's Guide to Life: Shopping for school supplies

Today I'm going to focus on what I discovered to be a horribly traumatic life-altering experience: Back-to-School week at OfficeStaplesMaxDepot. There's one right across the street from my office, so I go there regularly for supplies. It's quiet, the employees are generally helpful, and I know my way around it pretty well.

I naively thought this would be easy.

So on to the lesson:

1. Do NOT volunteer for this job (flip a coin, or arm wrestle, or have a duel to decide instead).

Silly me. When Mrs. Grumpy was wondering when she'd have time to get the school supplies, I volunteered. I figured "How hard can it be? Hell, it's just some pencils and a bottle of glue". DUMBASS!!! The list is HUGE, and features items from the mundane (No. 2 pencils), to the specific (Expo dry erase markers, wide tip, in blue, green, yellow, and black) to the odd (1 Pringles can with lid, original flavor, empty). It took me 2 freakin' hours!

2. Be prepared. Normally there are 5-10 other quiet business-type people in there. NOT THIS WEEK! Holy Crap! An African street bazaar is an orderly affair compared to this! Deranged parents running on caffeine! Kids running amok! Store clerks running for their lives! And all the crazed parents are trying to read off a list, push a cart, yell at kids, text, and scream into a cell phone at the same time. Bring a water bottle, food, a map, a cattle prod, and a flashlight. A card with your blood type, hospital preference, and next of kin is also a good idea.

3. Do not leave your cart unattended. People will steal your shit out of it. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP! I had my cart 2/3 full with the crap on my list, when I left it at the end of an aisle to go find notebooks (spiral, wide-ruled, 100 pages each, single subject, 1 red, 1 blue, 1 green). When I returned 3 minutes later about half the stuff I'd already put in it was GONE! I watched a few minutes later as it happened to others. Apparently, when you walk away from your cart, people think it means they can raid it for supplies they haven't had a chance to pick up yet. "Hey, this guy has those index cards (2 sizes, lined and unlined, 100 each) that my kid needs. Cool. I'll scratch that off my list".

If another parent asks you what school your kid goes to, or who their teacher is, DO NOT ANSWER. Ignore them. Pretend you're deaf, or that you don't speak English. They are not making conversation. They are casing your cart, and if they find out your kid is in the same class as their kid, they'll wait until you aren't looking to take your stuff (or just switch carts).

Best part was when I went to ask an employee for help finding something (Flair Correction Pens, in 4 colors). When I got back to my cart the box of 12 ultra-fine tip Sharpies I left in it had been opened, and someone had taken one of them. They'd even doodled on the shopping list I left in my cart to make sure they were taking a pen that worked.

Oddly, you can leave valuables in your cart. Your wallet, purse, and gold jewelry will be perfectly safe if left unattended, but the $2.69 box of high-lighters (12 markers, large tip, in 3 colors) will vanish.

My recommendation: bring a child to guard your cart, preferably one with an iron bladder and who's old enough to use a Taser or firearm if needed. If your kids don't meet this requirement, stop by Home Depot and hire one of the day laborers who hangs out in front looking for work.

4. Do not look for certain numbers of things. The people who make these lists have no idea how things are sold, so it lists things as "1 Expo dry erase marker, chisel-tip, red). Great. They don't sell red ones individually, just in boxes of 4. Or the Flair Correction Pens don't come in only 4 colors, but they do come in 8. Just buy it. If you aren't certain what item the teacher wants, just buy everything in sight and return the rejects later.

Alternatively, if the teacher only wants 1 of an item, such as, say, an ultra-fine tip Sharpie (which only come in boxes of 12), you can always look for an unattended cart with a box of them in it, and take one. If paper is handy, try doodling on it to make sure you are stealing one that works.

5. Hold your place in the check-out line AT ALL COSTS. Reserve it as soon as you walk in the store BEFORE shopping. Use a child (preferably your own) if possible. Other options include day laborers from Home Depot, mannequins, dogs, and aggressive Venus Fly Traps.

6. When in doubt, ask the bleary-eyed, terrified employees for help. If nothing else, it's fun to watch them try to convince you that they don't speak English as they run outside for a cigarette.

Good luck!

Sunday vacation pictures

On our recent trip we spent a few days in Las Vegas. At the AdventureDome amusement park they had this air hockey table:

"Winner gets free Premarin!"

While walking to the rollercoaster Marie suddenly yelled "There's a toilet out there!" This porcelain throne, and what looks like the remains of a bathroom stall, are lying outside on the roof of the casino.

Another victim of El Burrito Grande.

Afterwards we went to a food court, where the neurologist in me noticed this burger place:

Do they hire Parkinson's patients? Seizure patients? Both?

Browsing through a candy store, I saw a PEZ set for the most devoted LOTR fans:

The place also sold a brand of chewing gum called "I Love My Penis." I swear.

Of course, some of you may prefer non-fiction PEZ, and they have that covered, too:

Screw Mount Rushmore. THIS is the big time.

And, predictably, some things you just can't escape from:

Friday guest post- Officer Cynical!

From our favorite man-in-blue:


Last night, near the end of my shift, I happened upon a disabled car in the middle of a busy intersection. I pulled in behind him and put my overhead lights on, then went to talk to the driver to see what needed to be done.

The driver and a passenger were there, waiting for traffic to clear so they could push it out of the street. As I was talking to them, I noticed a guy in one of those serious, heavy-duty, motorized wheelchairs cruising by on the sidewalk, but didn't pay him much attention.

Well, as we started pushing the car, this guy suddenly jumped out of the StephenHawkingmobile, ran over, got behind the dead car, and helped us push it through the intersection and onto a side street. Then he ran back to the chair, hopped in, and motored away. It was like seeing a new-fangled superhero or something.

I still don't know what the hell happened.

Annie's desk, August 29, 2012

Mrs. Autoclave: "Hello?"

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

Mrs. Autoclave: "Do you have my test results?"

Annie: "Yes, your neck MRI was fine, and so he'd like to schedule you for an EMG."

Mrs. Autoclave: "Is that the test where they stick needles in your arm?"

Annie: "Yes."

Mrs. Autoclave: "Does he use clean needles?"

Annie: "Of course!"

Mrs. Autoclave: "He's not, like, re-using the same needle on every patient, is he? Or just rubbing it down with a paper towel between patients?"

Annie: "No. It's a disposable needle. He throws it away, and uses a new needle for every patient."

Mrs. Autoclave: "How do I know he's not just fishing it out of the garbage?"

Annie: "You can watch him open the package before the test."

Mrs. Autoclave: "I'm going to have to think about this. I don't trust you people." (click)

Skool Nerse announcement

This is Mrs. Grumpy.

Look, kids.

There are all kinds of ways to fake being sick/injured/dead to try and get sent home from school.

Pretending to have a weird rash that "suddenly came up" before the math test is not a good one.

Especially if you do it by rubbing your face and hands vigorously with Cheetos.

Your neon-orange "rash" washed off pretty damn easily when I took a washcloth to it.

And now you smell like the inside of a vending machine.

Nice try, though.

Patient quote of the day

"My blood pressure is intermittently sporadic. It happens randomly."

Life on rounds

I recently got a new doctor's bag because my old one fell apart. While talking to a nurse at the hospital, I started fiddling with the shoulder strap.

Nurse: "What's wrong?"

Dr. Grumpy: "My bag is hanging funny."

Hysterical laughter breaks out at nurse's station.

Dr. Grumpy: "That didn't sound good, did it?"

Saturday afternoon

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

Mrs. Adna-Thompson: "Hi, I'm one of your patients, and I'm at Glove World amusement park today."

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

Mrs. Adna-Thompson: "Well, we're in line for the Fiery Fist O' Pain, the roller coaster that goes upside down a few times. I'm afraid the upside down part will give me a migraine."

Dr. Grumpy: "So..."

Mrs. Adna-Thompson: "So, can I hand my phone to the attendant? I want you to tell him not to send my car on the upside-down part."

Dr. Grumpy: "Um, I think that's a function of the track. There's nothing he can do about it. Why don't you just not go on the ride?"

Mrs. Adna-Thompson: "That's what the attendant and my husband both said! You're no help at all!"

Random Sunday Pictures

First, from our recent trip, we have this picture taken at Lagoon. Apparently to dissuade masochists and guys looking for a painful prostate check:

I really love Lagoon. But not this much.

Next, in a similar vein, we have this unusual public service announcement tie-in from Local Grocery:

Have some wine. Then bend over.

It was a long driving trip. Fortunately you can try and amuse yourself with Siri:

"What do you mean? African or European?"

Emma sends this picture, which she says was taken at a store in Hackney:

And, lastly, yet another example of...

"My, what lovely dentures you have."

Sentence structure

English, like any language, has rules that are needed to convey whatever a sentence is trying to say.

Sometimes those are at odds with space limitations in a newspaper.

While I understand this headline for a "human interest" story, it still doesn't sound good.

 

Thank you, Lee!

BUSTED!

Yesterday I got dragged into doing a car accident evaluation for an insurance company. Generally I try to avoid these, but for various reasons couldn't get out of this one.

The hallway from my exam room to the lobby is a straight 10 feet, so I use it to watch patients walk when they come in.

On the way back to my room the patient limped on his right leg, and held a cane in his right hand.

Afterwards, on the way back to the lobby, he limped on his left leg and held the cane in his left hand.

Breaking medical news

In case you missed this groundbreaking work last month, the Journal of Caffeine Research (with a name like that they should be hanging out in my office taking notes) found that:

(drum roll, please)

DRUNK COLLEGE STUDENTS ARE MORE LIKELY TO DO STUPID THINGS THAN SOBER ONES!

Shocker, isn't it? You'd think that with all the previous pioneering research in this field (Landis, J. et al. Animal House, Universal, 1978) further studies wouldn't still be needed.

Better yet is how they obfuscated the subject to make it sound more interesting: they put sex into it. This is a guaranteed way of getting your paper more attention than it deserves.

Basically, they interviewed 648 college students about "risky sexual behaviors" and found that if you're drunk you have a much higher incidence of having casual sex, or inebriated sex, or both. I suppose this could also be done using a more mundane topic such as "more likely to incorrectly sort the recyclables" but who would read that?

Since such information is hardly new, they decided to put a twist on it by studying risky sex following the consumption of energy drinks, both with and without alcohol. And, in a stunning conclusion, found that the incidence of banging near-strangers went up considerably when alcohol was involved, rather than just a plain old energy drink.

Now, on the surface this may sound like some vaguely interesting paper about regular energy drinks (such as Red Bull) vs. those mixed with alcohol (i.e. Jägerbombs) but let's face the facts: it basically found that alcohol consumption leads to a greater incidence of risky behavior than being sober. No shit, Sherlock.

You could do the same sort of research about coffee vs. coffee + bourbon, or milk vs. milk + schnapps. Those haven't been done yet, so if you're a grad student desperate to publish in the "Spiking Drinks Quarterly" (or just trying to meet girls) this is your big chance. Please see the definitive paper on the subject (Ramone, JJDTMR Somebody Put Something in My Drink, Sire Rec., 1985).

This research was supported (according to the article) by a government grant from the National Institute on Drug Abuse. Sadly, I'm not making that up.

Then why ask me?

Mr. Tophi: "Look at this thing on my foot. It really hurts. Is this from my Parkinson's disease?"

Dr. Grumpy: "No, that looks like gout."

Mr. Tophi: "Funny, that's exactly what my podiatrist and internist said, too."

Does she live near a nuclear plant?

Reading notes from another doctor yesterday I discovered this line:

"The pain radiates from her neck into the right shoulder, then down the dorsal aspect of the arm and hand into the 7th & 8th fingers."

Skool nerse time

This is Mrs. Grumpy.

Dear Parents,

I encountered quite a few of you last month, as I got suckered into doing the summer vision and hearing screenings at Douglas C. Kenney Elementary School.

This is basically a volunteer job for the nurse involved. The district pays us (literally) minimum wage to be there. The tests are done routinely during the school year, but, trying to be accommodating, they offer them in July, too. So a teenager flipping burgers over the summer is making the same as the nurse checking his vision. I'm not telling you this for sympathy, but rather to make you understand that I'M NOT DOING THIS FOR THE MONEY. I do it because I care about your kids, and (more importantly) because it gives me a few hours away from mine.

Bringing your child in to get his hearing tested is a good thing. Bringing in his 18 siblings, or even just one screaming infant, defeats the entire process. To accurately test Junior it needs to be QUIET.

Since you apparently don't know what that means, here it is: no other kids playing loud video games, an infant screaming because you haven't changed her diaper in 2 weeks, talking loudly on a cell phone about which movie to see with friends later, eating a bag of extra-crunchy Cheetos, or all of the above. Also, you don't need to change the baby in my small office. There's a bathroom across the hall, and we are not testing your kid's sense of smell. Or mine.

Don't tell me it's okay to do any of these things because the front desk girl told you so. She's the chewing-gum-popping daughter of the woman who works there during the school year, and is too busy texting her friends to pay attention to what you're asking. She's not saying yes, just nodding her head in time to whatever song is playing. 

If you can't sit in here and be quiet, then go out to the fucking lobby and leave me and your kid in here. I'm not going to molest them. You can check my license online. I've never been in jail, gotten anything worse than a traffic ticket, or coached at Penn State. If this option absolutely, positively doesn't work for you, then GTFO and have your precious child tested during the regular year like everyone else.

Next is the vision issue.

I understand you feel Junior looks cool, cute, or whatever while wearing sunglasses. But he needs to take them off to do vision screening. We are not outside in direct sunlight, and hopefully he isn't in the Witness Protection Program. We are inside, under generic fluorescent bulbs. Wearing sunglasses may work for the top 2 Snellen lines, but not when they get toward the bottom.

Also, I'm sorry the eye chart isn't the one your kid fucking memorized from Wikipedia so she wouldn't have to get glasses. We know these games. As hard as it may be to believe, we school nurses were once kids. And most of us have our own, too.

Finally, I am NOT, in any way, shape, or form, responsible for your child being blind or deaf, or you being stupid. The school district is doing this testing free of charge. They are NOT giving out vouchers for eyeglasses, hearing aids, or doctor visits. If your kid failed the hearing test because you just had to bring his twin siblings and their Game Boys, and now you have to pay to go see a real audiologist, THAT'S NOT MY FAULT.

Don't give me bullshit like "the last nurse passed him," "you didn't set the machine right" or "his sister didn't have a problem." I DON'T CARE. Contrary to popular belief, I do not have some sort of personal vendetta against your child (you, maybe, but I won't hold that against him).

Also, telling me that any problem the test found is my fault doesn't fly. You'd think I'd be shocked that so many of you feel I should personally pay for new glasses/hearing aids because "he didn't have a problem before you did the test," but sadly I'm not surprised at all. And no, I'm not paying for them.

Have a nice day.

Summer vacation

At my family's request, I am ending the current Summer vacation series. I will return to regular blogging on August 20, 2012.

Grumpy Summer vacation, day 3

Today my aunt drove us to pick up our rental car. We'd decided to leave the legendary Grumpy Family Truckster at home and rent a car. We loaded it up, and off we went to Las Vegas. Since the kids had so much fun there last year, we wanted to go back.

Approaching Vegas, we passed one of it's most famous celebrities.

"Don't run over my blue suede shoes."

We decided to stay at the Flamingo this time, as the staff we'd spoken to last month had told us about all the great pool features, including it's huge size, and the waterfall they can swim through. Unfortunately, we discovered they hadn't been entirely truthful. Yes, they do have a humungous pool with a big waterfall. Unfortunately, kids aren't allowed in it.

Families with kids are limited to 2 small pools. One is surrounded by fountain statues of Flamingos spitting into the pool (I SWEAR!) and the other is even smaller and has a water slide and dinky waterfall. Both were packed wall-to-wall with people, and not nearly enough chairs available. So I sat on a concrete wall while the kids swam, and pounced on the first chair I saw open up (okay, so I waited until this old lady's family wasn't looking, then I pushed her off a chair, threw her glasses in the trash, and grabbed her marble rye). My kids were similarly unimpressed with the pool, and kept asking if we could go to another hotel.

As I tried to relax and play Russian solitaire on the iPad (sorry, Klondike fans, I learned this one from my grandfather, and it's my game of choice) a couple next to me were playing dominoes while their kids swam. At some point this innocuous tile game became a proxy between them to fight over who's fault a recent speeding ticket was, why the kids wear out shoes so fast, when can they afford to go to Hawaii, and (finally), who's turn is it anyway. At that point the game ended when she turned the board over and sent tiles flying everywhere.

Another issue was that while families weren't allowed in the big adult pool, childless couples were allowed in the kiddie one. So a pair of newlyweds came over to try out the waterslide, then decided to stay. Since pool chairs were at a premium, they shared one. Being newlyweds, this proximity resorted in them starting to make out, then using strategically placed towels to go further. After they finished I wasn't sure if I should applaud or not.

One thing that I find incredibly annoying about Las Vegas is that all the pools close at insanely early hours, usually 5:00 for kid pools, 7:00 for adults. I don't understand this at all, especially in Summer when it's daylight until at least 8:00 p.m. Hotels everywhere else keep pools open till at least 9:00, and often 10:00 or 11:00. Except in Vegas.

While walking to dinner we engaged in the popular Vegas sport of avoiding guys handing out cards with hooker's phone numbers (except for Frank, who tried to get the ones with pictures on them. Craig wanted to, but doesn't have Franks lack of inhibition). During this time the kids kept bumping into each other, until finally a fight broke out over who stepped on who. Of course, this sort of thing always seems to happen when you're dodging cars/hookers/hobos/Elvis, making the situation as chaotic as possible. After we got them separated Mrs. Grumpy pointed out a remarkably appropriate sign nearby:

Sums up traveling with kids, huh?

 

For dinner we went to the Planet Hollywood buffet, which is done up with movie posters. This one caught my eye:

Somehow, I just don't see a movie today being marketed with that tagline.


Afterwards we walked over to the Cosmopolitan hotel. (MOM! ARE YOU READING THIS? GOOD!). We did this because my parents were in Vegas a month ago, and Mom made a big deal about how neat the Cosmo's lobby is. She (YES, MOM, YOU!) told us we should take the kids there because they have these really cool columns with TV screens that show changing pictures, and that the kids would love them. So we went.

Well, I guess they changed the pictures since then (or my mom needs new glasses) because when we got there the lobby columns were showing a silent movie of a silhouetted, but obviously nude, woman. And she was doing some sort of semi-erotic dance with a large dog. I am not making this up.

When I called my mom tonight to tell her this, she said "well, I only told you they were interesting." Great, ma. I'll have Marie call you when I find her dancing naked with Snowball in the bathroom.

Grumpy Summer vacation, day 2

This morning I noticed that I only had one day of deodorant left, and so we stopped at Target. Thanks to the miracle of GPS, it's possible to find pretty much anything, anywhere, provided they haven't started doing extensive road construction since the last time your GPS unit was updated. Which, of course, they had. So we drove my cousin's borrowed truck in circles for an hour trying to buy one stupid deodorant stick.

Today we went over to a cousin's house. The original plan was for the kids to spend the day out in their yard, which has all kinds of stuff. Unfortunately, some local inhabitants had other plans.

Damnit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not an apiarist.

So we went to an aquarium instead, where we got to see the bravest man in California cleaning a tank:

Yes, folks, the fish really were in there, all cowering in the left corner. So much for using them as watch fish in my swimming pool.


And then, because the cousins outvoted us, we ended up going back to (drumroll, please) Lego Land! Did I mention that I can't wait till these passes expire next week?

Lego Land, like every amusement park on Earth, has a generic "Wild Mouse" type roller coaster. Here it's called "Technic." It's not bad, but while waiting in line you're subjected to this horrible synthetic-industrial-pop soundtrack that plays the same 30-second sequence over and over AND OVER again. Until you want to move like Shields & Yarnell (yes, I'm old). How the people who work on the ride put it up with it all day I don't know, but you'd think one of them would snap sooner or later and add "going Technic" to the American lexicon.

Lego Land sells these little plastic packets, each with some sort of collectible minifigure in it, and they change minifigure sets (16 in each! Collect them all!) every 3 months. And once they're gone, THEY'RE GONE. Never to be released again in any form.

This is what they look like.

Now, I personally don't give a shit. I mean, they're freakin' Legos! And each minifigure is $2.99 ($3.22 with tax- you learn that fast). But my kids saved up a crapload of money just to buy them here (Grumpyville has 3 Lego stores, but that's not good enough for them). Of course, each kid has a specific request: Craig wants Little Red Riding Hood, Marie wants King Neptune, and Frank wants Astronaut Soldier That Looks Kind Of Like The "Halo" Guy.

Of course, they don't actually SELL the damn things labeled, so you can see what they are. They're in giant bins in every Lego store (and there's one every 50 feet here), sealed in identical plastic wrappers. You have no clue which one is which. So your kids (and everyone elses) stand around fondling packages, trying to figure it out. "Dad, does this thing in the bottom corner feel like Neptune's trident/a picnic basket/a space rifle?" And, of course, I have no idea. It feels like a hard piece of molded plastic, okay?

You'd think they'd put a label on them, to help kids. But the store dude told me that's not allowed, because it brings down the value for collectors. Yes, collectors. People who will pay big money in a few years for a sealed plastic packet, that for all they know has a broken figure and a rat turd in it. Because what's the point of blowing 2 months worth of salary on a small plastic toy if you actually know what it is?

So, each Lego store usually has one employee with a good sense of touch who can feel around and tell you what they are, sometimes. Not always. You have a 1 in 16 chance of being right.

THEN there's the guy at The Big Store, which is the main sales place at the park entrance.

I don't remember his name. Something like Ricardo. He reminds me of Franck Eggelhoffer, the insane wedding planner (played by Martin Short) in "Father of the Bride (1991). Complete with the nonspecific accent and flamboyant mannerisms.

But damn, this guy is good. No matter what they pay him, it isn't enough. He sells his weight in minifigures every 10 minutes. He should have his own TV show.

Kids find him and ask for, say, the Easter Bunny figure, and he takes it from there.

"The Easter Bunny, yes? You want Ricardo to find an Easter Bunny for you?" And with great theatrics he walks over to the bin, runs his fingers over 200 packets in 10 seconds (he doesn't look at them- sometimes he closes his eyes for effect) and then whips one out, snaps his fingers, announces "Ricardo has found the Easter Bunny!" and tosses it to the kid. Then it's the next kid's turn. This guy has some sort of zen-Lego magic touch. Even the other employees are in awe of him.

The best part is when some kid questions him "Are you sure this is the Easter Bunny?" Ricardo claps his hands and indignantly exclaims "Ricardo is NEVER wrong!" and goes back to his next request. And, I must admit, on this and several past trips  (he draws a crowd, he's that good) I've never seen him screw up yet.

Then the real insanity begins.

Every Lego Land employee has one or more of these coveted minifigures on their name badge, and kids can trade if they see one they want. So my kids will bring some from home to do this. Marie loves to buy them in the store, pocket the accessories, and then trade the naked figure for a fully equipped one, pull off their aceessories, and repeat (warning: this doesn't always work, depending on the employee). I've actually seen roller coaster rides delayed because kids are trading figures with the guy who works the controls.

Where this makes you want to pull your hair out is when your kid just spent 30 minutes looking for a certain figure, finally gets Ricardo to find it for them, is overjoyed to have bought it, and one minute later trades the damn thing to a guy selling churros outside the store. This happens all the freakin' time, and makes me glad I brought my Rogaine.

At one point, in an exchange that had me in hysterics, I watched as Frank traded figures among 3 park employees and 4 other kids who were walking around Pirate Shores, and at the end of 10 minutes he discovered he had his original figure back, with absolutely no new accessories.

I don't understand it either.

But you know what has REALLY pissed me off on this trip? It's going to sound stupid (because it is).

They used to have this great attraction where families would race firetrucks against other families. Four families would compete in a vicious, no-holds-barred competition to pump giant Lego fire trucks across a track, aim 2 water cannons to put out a fake fire, and then pump the trucks back. You play for pride (not even a cheapshit $2.99 Lego figure, FFS) but for 10 seconds afterward the victors can bask in the glow of having won.

Hell on wheels. With kids.

Not anymore.

Now, for reasons which the staff will only explain as "an accident happened," YOU CAN'T RACE. You all try to pump the cars slowly across the track, getting to the fire at the same time (waiting for the other trucks to arrive) then put out the fires, get back in the trucks (waiting for the idiots who can't figure out how to work a toy water cannon to finish) and then go slowly back to the finish together.

WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF THAT?!!! If you're going to do some manual labor at Lego Land, it should be to prove you're better at it than other families!

Obviously, it's really pathetic that this pisses me off as much as it does, and likely takes the phrase "first world problem" to a new level.

I'm going to bed now. King Neptune, Astronaut Soldier Guy, and Little Red Riding Hood are looking like they want to start a threesome, and I'm keeping them from getting it on.

Grumpy Summer vacation, day 1

This year we decided to start the trip by flying to San Diego, to visit my family there.

The flight from Grumpyville to San Diego yesterday was going fine, until the flight attendant brought Craig a little packet of artisanal hypoallergenic goldfish crackers. She complimented him on his hair, and he quickly become even more insufferable about it (hell, I didn't think that was possible).

Today we (and some cousins) went to Lego Land. This will, mercifully, be our last trip there because my kids are getting pretty damn old for it (they insisted on going! Not us!) and our annual passes expire next week. So this gives me a good reason to be done with the place. I have nothing against LL, but it gets old after a while. There's a reason you don't hear Super Bowl winners yell "I'm going to Lego Land!"

I suspect most of their "Master Builders" (that's what they call them, I swear) are working at the new Florida park, as the California one could use some upkeep. One of the big construction dinosaurs ("Lazy Pete") you see near the entrance is pretty well covered with black gunk. You get a frighteningly good look at it on the Coastal Cruise ride.

This a boat ride that takes you around various (fairly impressive) Lego structures of world monuments such as the Eiffel Tower, Sydney Opera House, Taj Mahal, etc. But the ravages of nature affect the Lego models just as much as the real ones, but on a more dramatic scale. Today the Lego man cleaning the windows on the Opera House was partially trapped in a spider web, and there were gigantic (by comparison) pigeons perched on the Eiffel Tower. With, I assume, huge bird droppings threatening to crush cars and pedestrians below.

From a perspective view these would make great horror flicks.

The annoying thing about Coastal Cruise is the guide's patter, which never changes. "Make sure you have your seatbelts on!" (riders look for seatbelts) "Just joking, there aren't any!" or (in a part where a Lego figure looks like he's about to fall on the boat) "Don't worry folks, he's been hanging on there for 14 years, and he hasn't LEGO yet!" They also always add something like "He's made out of 1,324,863 Lego bricks and took 346.57 hours to put together."

This is minor league stuff of course. Let's face it: the ride by which ALL corny boat ride monologues are measured is the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland. As far as I can tell (as of my 2008 visit) the patter there hasn't changed since I was kid. I guess this is part of the attraction. ("You're lucky your guide is such a crackpot!"

The cultural impact of the Jungle Cruise (most famous line is about hippos wiggling their ears) is such that it was further immortalized by Weird Al Yankovich in his song "Skipper Dan."





So, I think the bottom line here is that when you're working on the Coastal Cruise, you're in the minor leagues, and hoping to be called up to the majors in Adventureland.



The models also need to be repaired. Take this Lego butterfly that's up on a pole:

It looks good. I mean, pretty impressive when you realize it's all made out of Lego's. But on the next pole over:

The butterfly on the right has lost a chunk of one wing (likely fallen, shattered, and pieces picked up by passing kids as free Legos). The one on the left has lost pretty much everything, and what remains looks like one of Gene Simmons' evil robots from the 1983 movie "Runaway."

Over in Miniland we witnessed a traffic accident:

I hope all the Lego people are okay, and that the school bus driver has good insurance.

Frank, for whatever reason, has named his winkie "Bob." As we passed the theater showing "Bob the Builder in 4D" They have an overhead recording that says "Come on in and join us! Because no one can get enough of Bob!" The 5 of us broke into hysterics, leading many to assume we were nuts. Which we probably are.

They've installed a new water ride since we were last here, which was originally used for interrogation at Guantanamo Bay. It's called "Pirate Reef" and consists of a boat-flume type ride, with a single drop. Craig, who LOVES soaker rides, conned me into trying it with him.

It looks deceptively harmless. You figure, "Okay, maybe I'll get a little wet." Sucker.

You first realize something is amiss when they make you put EVERYTHING attached to you into a plastic bin before boarding: watches, glasses, phones, toupees, cameras, jockstraps, facial moles. Then off you go, in a boat that holds maybe 15-20 people. After getting in you realize that the bottom of the boat has 3-5 inches of water in it, and your feet are soaked. This is your first warning.

You chug around the little loop peacefully, then start the slow climb to the top. You are trapped.

And then you have the drop.

As you hit the bottom there's a split second where the water splashes up, you get a little wet, and you think "that's not so bad."

Then you get walloped. Because of the landing basin's design the entire water displacement of the boat and people in it is projected directly UP OVER YOU. So while you're thinking "this isn't so bad" the mass of water is right above your head, and starting to come down.

On impact it takes you completely by surprise. The practical effect is that you're completely underwater for 1-2 seconds, and get SOAKED. There is nowhere to hide. The entire boat gets it equally.

And it isn't over. As you come out of the downpour you go between 2 large Lego pirate ships. With 10 water cannons on each side, shooting down at you. Manned by the last people who went through the ride, and now looking to take it out on the next group of riders. They can also shoot at each other, but prefer to hit you. After you pass this there's a few more H2O sprayers to get through before returning to the dock. Where they cheerfully return your goods to you, as you drip all over.

Of course, you're now soaked, and so decide to stop in the pirate ships yourself to spray the next group of suckers. Craig and I got on different pirate ships, and battled each other.

Then the next boat came down. And in our determination to soak its payload we suddenly realized that the tsunami wave it generates would soak us again, 20 feet up on the pirate ships. DRENCH!

As we walked away from this aquatic conflagration I realized that, in spite of both of us being completely soaked to the skin with our shoes filled with water, Craig's hair was miraculously dry, perfect, and radiant.

Grumpy Summer vacation, 2012

Since I'm spending the morning frantically looking for plane tickets, my sunglasses, and kids, a special guest blogger has kindly offered to make the traditional announcement for me:





Thank you, Ambassador!

Vote Grumpy, 2012!

As the 2012 Presidential campaign goes on, I think it's time that I introduce more of my platform.

Certain phrases will be retired, or have strict limitations on them:

The words "artisan" and "artisanal" can only be used to refer to products manufactured by a company with fewer than 20 employees, and cannot be used for anything naturally grown (like lettuce, FFS). If it's not handmade, it's not artisan.

The use of the phrase "reaching out" and its derivatives will be punishable by death. I am sick of hearing "I'm reaching out to you today" or "We're trying to reach out." Bullshit. Do you say "I reached out to Mom to wish her a happy birthday?" No! You freakin' called her. Or sent her a card. Or email. Or whatever. "Reaching out" is what you do when trying to get pancake mix off the top shelf.

"Reaching out's" evil twin "touch base" will also be banned. Not only is it stupid, it sounds like a code phrase Jerry Sandusky would use. It will be strictly limited only to baseball announcers where appropriate.

Saying "think outside the box" will be punishable by being interred in a large box. Without airholes.

"Empower" really needs to go. It's stupid. I mean, hell, I empower my kids to take out the garbage, and they still don't. It's condescending. Worst of all, it brings back memories of a horrific blind date I went on in the early 90's where this girl kept saying it. She empowered me to pick a restaurant. She empowered me to order for her. She empowered me to decide what show to go to, and where to have a drink after the show. And after all that she didn't even empower me to sleep with her.

Want to use the phrase "push the envelope"? Under President Grumpy you'll be sealed in a big paper envelope and pushed into the Grand Canyon.

Do you always "give 110%"? Good. Because pretty much all it says is that you're a moron who failed 3rd grade math. If you're caught saying it when I'm in office you'll be sent back to grade school. And have to sit in one of those tiny desks.

The Disney company will be forbidden to use the word "classic" in advertisements for pretty much anything. And they can't use artisanal, either.

There will be a minimum wait time of 25 years before Hollywood can even think about remaking a movie. Violators will be forced to watch the new "Total Recall" until they gouge their eyes out.

The phrase "goes" to refer to people speaking will be replaced by the rightful "says." Believe it or not, this one drives me crazier than any of the above. It started when I was in High School, and just keeps spreading. Like Ebola.

Politicians who espouse screaming and yelling at the opposition will be dropped into a desert with an equal number of equally stubborn people from the other side, under circumstances where their mutual survival depends on finding ways to work together and be polite. This will be aired as a TV show called "Modern Sandbox," with advertising revenue and T-shirt sales going toward the national debt.

Remember: Vote Grumpy in November! Unlike my competitors I actually have my birth certificate immediately available (sort of - I think it's in an old briefcase in the back of my Dad's closet) and I don't own an Olympic horse that I'm spending $77,000 per year on. I've also never driven with a dog strapped to the roof of my car. And I've never been to Kenya. Or Africa. Or the moon. After all, these are the REALLY important issues you should be paying attention to, not silly things like the economy or women's rights. And, like any good politician, I'm for sale. Someone (hell, anyone), please buy me. I take Paypal.

OH NO! That will never come out of my shirt!

Yes, worse than getting blood or grease stains on your clothes:

Thank you, Webhill!

Fashion

They turned off the air conditioning at my office last night for repairs, so when I got here early this morning it was quite warm. Since on Fridays no one else comes in until 9:00, I took off my shirt.

I went up front to get water from the cooler, and found myself at the front window, face-to-face with the lung doctor next door. He'd just gotten out of the elevator across from my door.

The bottom half of the front window is fogged. So for all he knows...

This can only improve my reputation.

Effort

Today I'd like to share this bracelet, which was sent in by Beth (thank you, Beth!). Her husband got it after being treated at an outpatient surgicenter:

Now, I don't know about you guys, but I don't find this particularly reassuring. Granted, the word "excellent" is pretty overused these days, but still. They might as well write "Our goal is anything above mediocre care" or "Our goal is to avoid being on Fail Blog." I mean, this is surgery for crap's sake. I don't think "very good," even when all capitalized, sounds especially comforting.

I could probably go on with a whole post about how many resources are wasted on these stupid bracelets, which my kids bring home from school for one cause or another almost every freakin' day. With various shit like "I believe in art class" or "Support your local pencil factory" or "Eat at Rigatoni's House of Overpriced Pasta." They end up all over the floor, and then get tossed in recycling. But I think I'll stop there.

Life at the cheap motel

Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, we'll try this new medication, and I'll see you back in a month. Any other questions?"

Ms. Viridae: "Yeah, it looks like I have, um genital herpes. Can you call in some Valtrex for me?"

Dr. Grumpy: "No, that's not something I treat. I recommend you go back to your family doctor to have it properly evaluated and get the right medication."

Ms. Viridae: "I'd rather not... I think he's the one who gave it to me."

Tuesday morning, 2:18 a.m.

"Hi, can someone call me back? I saw you in 2005, but changed to another doc because I didn't like you. Anyway, that doc just moved away, and I'm out of Vicoden. Can you please call some in for me until I can find another neurologist?"

Tonight's health tip

While I don't have any large-scale, double-blinded, placebo-controlled studies to back it up, I'm going to go out on a limb with this recommendation:

IT IS NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, A GOOD IDEA TO SHOVE LIT FIREWORKS IN YOUR ASS.

This has been a public service announcement from Grumpy Neurology, Inc.

Today's quiz

This picture:

A: Shows why you shouldn't pass out drunk when your friends have magic markers lying around.

B. "OMG grandma, I told you not to use the discount tattoo place!"

C. Is the latest innovation from Apple, the iBrain. The flash drive is planted right under your skin, and connects in your gums via Bluetooth.

D. Is from an ad for a new type of brain scan.


The correct answer is D. Really!

Weekend reruns

Dear Dr. Worthless,

Thank you for your note on my migraine patient.

I've tried several medications for Mrs. Hedhurtz, including Fukitol, Painbegone, Nomigraine, Acefalgia, Gonehert, and Nopayn, all without success.

I've done MRI's, MRA's, and a spinal tap on her. I sent her to an ophthalmologist.

I was frustrated. She was more frustrated. I wasn't having a lot of success helping her. And she seems like a nice lady.

So, since you advertise yourself as a neurologist who specializes in treating difficult headaches, and cite your 2 years of headache subspecialty fellowship training, I decided to refer her to you. You opened up shop near me last month, so I thought I'd give you a chance to earn my referral business. Your marketing person dropped off some cards here 2 weeks ago.

And yesterday I got your faxed note about her.

At the beginning of your note it says that "I've reviewed Dr. Grumpee's notes and tests in detail." That was your second lie (your first lie is in calling yourself a headache specialist, or even a doctor). I also loved the fact that you spelled my name wrong.

Your note ends with the following, which I've paraphrased.

"Impression: Mrs. Hedhurtz suffers from chronic headaches. She's previously failed trials of Fukitol, Painbegone, Nomigraine, Acefalgia, Gonehert, and Nopayn. I suggest she be referred to an ophthalmologist. A spinal tap should also be considered.

For future treatment, I suggest she be started on a medication that she hasn't previously tried before. I've referred her back to Dr. Grumpee's care to follow my recommendations.

Yours truly,

I. M. Worthless, M.D."


Thank you SO much for your helpful advice. I'd normally say "thanks for nothing", but what you've done doesn't even amount to that much.

As my late grandfather would have said, "this is the second time I've sent you a patient. First and last."

Sincerely,

Ibee Grumpy, M.D.

July 28, 1909

The Waratah wasn't a fancy ship compared to the giants that crossed the North Atlantic. She was built for mixed-use (both freight and passengers) but still had fashionable features to keep her travelers comfortable. She worked the long (6-8 week) voyage between England and Australia, serving stops in South Africa along the way.

And 103 years ago today she disappeared. Without a trace.

211 people vanished with her. She'd stopped in Durban, South Africa, where one passenger disembarked as he felt she was top-heavy and unsafe. She left port later that day, never to return.

Cruising along the South African coast on July 27, 1909 she was passed by (possibly) 3 other ships, though identification was difficult. The Waratah, like many other ships of the era, didn't carry the newly invented telegraph equipment.

The area is known for monstrous freak waves, which can overwhelm and badly damage ships. One steamer reported seeing a ship coming up quickly, possibly on fire (though it could also have been a brush fire on land, which were common). A police officer patrolling the Transkei coast thought he saw a large ship offshore being battered in huge waves, finally rolling over and sinking.

She was expected to reach Cape Town on July 29, but never made it.

The Royal Navy quickly launched a search with 3 cruisers, without success. One of them (HMS Hermes) was so badly damaged by huge waves that she required extensive drydock repairs upon return.

Further patrols were sent out, both private and government sponsored. All together they covered 14,000 square miles of water of South Africa. Without any evidence of the Waratah.

Not a single verifiable trace has ever been found. A few sightings of what may have been bodies floating off the coast afterwards, or a non-identifiable chair cushion bobbing on the waves. All seen from passing ships, but no one stopped to get a better look. For all we know they were seaweed or aquatic objects.

Leads have come in sporadically over the years. In 1925 the pilot of a plane reported seeing a large vessel on the bottom, but searches of the area have since been unsuccessful. Similar searches of the offshore area where the officer reported seeing a ship sink have also found nothing.

Twice it was thought her wreck had been found, but on investigation they turned out to be other lost ships. One was a freighter sunk during World War II.

What could have happened?

The answer remains a mystery. She was considered a safe, well-built ship, and had received top ratings from government inspectors and insurance companies.

A great deal of investigation time was spent on descriptions of her stability, but in the end a board of inquiry was unable to find any clear evidence of her being unseaworthy.

103 years later and we're no closer to finding her, or learning the fate of 211 voyagers, than we were in 1909. Like U.S.S. Cyclops, this is a mystery I'd love to see solved.

But I'm not optimistic.

Patient quote of the day

Mrs. Young: "I like to walk a lot, but not hike. I prefer streets. I like to streetwalk. Um, that didn't sound good, did it?"

Magic

Dr. Grumpy: "Have you lost or gained any weight since starting Fukitol?"

Mrs. Pound: "I don't know... I don't have a scale at home."

Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, then let's go over to the scale. I need to know what your weight is on the drug."

Mrs. Pound: "No, you don't need to."

Dr. Grumpy: "I'm sorry, I do."

Mrs. Pound: "No, I'm not going to. A good doctor should be able to tell my weight just by looking at me."

Drug rep swag

Since January 1, 2009 drug reps haven't been able to give us any of their goodies like pens, post-notes, calendars, or pretty much anything.

However, my colleagues in non-human medical fields are exempt. So veterinarians still get their bountiful, yet bizarre gifts. My colleague Webhill recently received this gem, which she kindly sent:

What the hell is that? A rubber cat? A hurkle? (no, wait, it has 4 legs, not 6) A Pokemon?



Nope. It's a flash drive.

Because, let's face it. Nothing could ever make your day like having someone ask, "Hey, doc, why do you have a blue cat's butt sticking out of your computer?"

Do not try this at home. Or anywhere.

Gee, I wonder how much he won?

Thank you, Brick!

Odd numbers

Dr. Grumpy: "Any major illnesses in the family?"

Mrs. Trilateral: "My Mom has had breast cancer 3 times, once on each side."

Heroism

My deep sleep is shattered by hysterical screaming of the psychopath-with-a-butcher-knife-has-broken-into-the-house-and-is-about-to-kill-me sort coming from Craig's room.

I go flying down the hall.

Dr. Grumpy: "Craig! Are you okay?!!! What's wrong?!!!"

Craig: "THERE'S A LIZARD ON MY WALL!!!"

Dr. Grumpy: "That? For crap's sake, Craig, it's 2 inches long. They eat bugs. It's not going to hurt you."

Craig: "IT COULD CLIMB UP TO THE CEILING AND GET OVER MY BED AND DROP ON TOP OF ME AND CRAWL IN MY MOUTH AND I COULD CHOKE AND IT WOULD KILL ME IN MY SLEEP!!!"

So, in order to protect my children from a dangerous, potentially-lethal, 2-inch-long bug-eating lizard, I got a yardstick and tupperware container, and gently captured the menacing beast.

It's now out in the yard, where the bug hunting is likely better, anyway.

Sancho Panza, where are you when we need you?

I guess he's sort of a modern-day Don Quixote.

Thank you, Tanya!

Sunday re-runs

On the side I do survey work for various market research companies. They ask me what I think of ad campaigns, or medications, or whatever.

So last night I was doing a phone interview with one, and was asked this great question:

"Doctor, have any of your patients ever stopped taking their Alzheimer's medication due to death?"

Random Saturday pictures

First off, we have this:

 

Because nothing says "handmade by skilled craftsmen" more than prepackaged pizza dough in a plastic tube, made by a huge food conglomerate, and stacked en masse on shelves in every grocery store in North America.



Next is this picture, taken on approaching Atlantic City. Where, apparently, the casino buildings are always standing erect and ready.

Back to the artisanal crap, we have this generic package from a generic warehouse club, where they apparently can't decide if their generic cookie of the month is blueberry, cranberry, or macadamia. Unless it has all three.

Of course, there's always artisanal salt to put on your artisanal food:

And then there's Australia, where you can build an entire pharmacy from artisanal components!

And  lastly, we have this non-artisanal, but remarkably bad, juxtaposition of news headlines: