Rimshot

Dr. Grumpy: "So you've had speech therapy since the stroke. How did that go?"

Mrs. Kramden: "I think I'm doing better."

Mr. Kramden: "Oh yeah. Doc, I can definitely vouch for my wife being able to talk."

Mary's desk

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

Mr. Newpatient: "Yeah, my hand surgeon wants me to schedule an EMG with Dr. Grumpy."

Mary: "I can help you with that. Are you on any blood thinners?"

Mr. Newpatient: "I don't know. Am I?"

Mary: "Sir, you've never been here, so we have no information about you."

Mr. Newpatient: "Well, can you guys look at my medicines and tell me if any are blood thinners?"

Mary: "Sure, I can have the doctor review them... What are you taking?"

Mr. Newpatient: "I have no idea. Can you call my pharmacy for the list?"

Mary: "Um... What pharmacy do you go to?"

Mr. Newpatient: "I don't know. My wife always deals with that stuff."

Mary: "Is she there?"

Mr. Newpatient: "No. Can you call back later?"

Thank you for sharing

Dr. Grumpy: "I'll have Annie set up an MRI for you, and in the meantime..."

Ms. Rope: "Hey, do they have to tie me down to do the MRI?"

Dr. Grumpy: "No, not at all."

Ms. Rope: "That's too bad. I'm into that sort of thing."

Reflections

This post isn't funny. But I mean every word.

November 6 is always a day of special meaning to me. My first secretary (Kate) called it Independence Day.

It's the anniversary of my going into solo practice. Which, after many years, is still one of the best decisions of my life.

As most of you know, I started out with Humungous Neurology, but after a few years I got sick of endless partner meetings (AKA sociopath's roundtable), bizarre fluctuations in my allegedly fixed salary that no one could explain, office politics, and the utter bullshit that seems to come with a large medical practice. Accountants showing me charts of dollars earned vs. square footage of office space used per patient drove me nuts.

Most of the other docs at Humungous Neurology, Inc., told me I wouldn't make it on my own. That I'd be back soon. That there was no place in modern medicine for a solo doc.

But I left anyway. It was a gutsy move. I had a 1 year old. Mrs. Grumpy was pregnant with twins, and couldn't work. I hadn't run a business since age 12, when I sold used golf balls (I fished them out of a lake on a nearby course, and sold them from a card table to passing golfers). My dad helped me form a corporation, and connected me with a friendly accountant he knew.

Kate (who was here before Mary) and Annie came with me from Humungous Neurology, Inc. But my first receptionist was - my mom.

To add another item to the list of terrific things Mom has done, she became my first receptionist when Kate had to go out of town that first week. She patiently answered the phones and made notes in a scheduling book, while I frantically tried to get the phones and computers to work properly. I didn't see a single office patient that week due to a phone system meltdown (it traumatized me so much that I've never changed it since).

Kate left me after 4 years to take a job closer to her home. I was afraid I'd never replace her. I spent a sleepless night at home, and the next morning she introduced me to Mary, who she'd met working for another doctor in the building. She'd found her own awesome replacement in only one day. And Mary is still here, and still totally awesome.

Annie and I have now been together for a total of 14 years, and I can't imagine doing this without her.

I have no regrets about solo practice. It was a self-taught crash course in business: insurance, payroll, withholding taxes, purchasing supplies, etc. It certainly isn't for everyone. But when it's all said and done, I prefer this more than any group. Nobody argues with me about my choice of computers, or EMG machine, or ISP, or whatever. Nobody makes me look at Powerpoint presentations on lobby decor. And nobody shows me charts of dollars earned per square foot per patient.

I'm writing this to say "thank you" to those who have made it possible for me to be here: Annie, Kate, Mary, my parents, and (of course) Mrs. Grumpy. It takes a hell of a lot of patience (and too many other qualities to list) to put up with me.

And, of course, the patients. Without whom I'd have no practice or blog.

Thank you all so very much.

IG

Working on commission

Commission Guy: "Can I help you, sir?"

Dr. Grumpy: "I need a new iPhone case, one with a belt clip. Mine wore out and broke."

Commission Guy: "I can help you with that. You want one that lights up when you're talking?"

Dr. Grumpy: "No. Don't get me started on that."

Commission Guy: "All right, how about this one. It's on sale!"

Dr. Grumpy: "It's kind of thick... Not sure I need that."

Commission Guy: "It's a great deal, though! Normally $289, this week only $199!"

Dr. Grumpy: "ONLY $199? Uh, no, I just need something to protect it from scratches and stuff, like this $15 one here. Hey, do you have this kind in black? And with a belt clip?"

Commission Guy: "Yeah, but that won't protect your iPhone. You just said your last case broke. You need something sturdier."

Dr. Grumpy: "Maybe, but I'm not paying $199 for an iPhone case."

Commission Guy: "Your phone could get wet or dropped or something. Look at this case as an investment."

Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, I'm taking this one for $15 and going to check out. Thank you."

Commission Guy: "Wait! This $199 case is a great deal! It's bullet proof!"

Dr. Grumpy: "BULLET PROOF?"

Commission Guy: "Well, against a small caliber handgun, I mean. Couldn't you use that in an iPhone case?"

Dr. Grumpy: "I wear my phone on the right side of my belt. So, yes, if I'm worried about someone sneaking up and shooting me in the right hip I suppose it's useful. But I think I'll take my chances with the $15 case."

Commission Guy: "But..."

Dr. Grumpy: "Besides, if someone is shooting at me, the safety of my iPhone is the least of my worries."

I left and went to another store, where I got a cheap case. Upon getting home my curiosity got the best of me, and I looked online. The only bullet proof iPhone case I found was $650, and didn't look anything like what he was trying to sell me.

And then I had these visions of Linda Carter, in a 1977 Wonder Woman outfit, using an iPhone instead of her magic bracelets to deflect bullets while fighting bad guys.

Fun with online medical surveys

What happens to the documents if I take the survey in French?

Claustrophobia

"Doc, I was a Navy Seal. We trained in all kinds of stuff. I got crammed into the torpedo tubes of a submarine to land on enemy islands. I sat balled up in a fetal position for hours in the dark cargo hold of a bomber to parachute out. I fought in combat in 2 wars. But holy shit, I couldn't handle that MRI to save my life."