Dr. Grumpy: "Okay, we'll see what the test shows... Any questions?"
Mrs. Lipstick: "You have some unused space in your lobby."
Dr. Grumpy: "Oh, that depends on the day, and how many patients Pissy and I have."
Mrs. Lipstick: "I was thinking I could put a small table at the far end."
Dr. Grumpy: "For what?"
Mrs. Lipstick: "I sell Avon cosmetics, and could set up a small store out there. I think a lot of your female patients would appreciate the convenience."
Dr. Grumpy: "What? No. I'm sorry, but that's just not something we'd like here."
Mrs. Lipstick: "How much of a commission do you want? I'm sure we can make a deal."
الاثنين، 9 سبتمبر 2013
الجمعة، 6 سبتمبر 2013
Small talk
Dr. Grumpy: "How's your husband doing?"
Mrs. Latrine: "He eats, then he shits. It's like living with a goose."
Mrs. Latrine: "He eats, then he shits. It's like living with a goose."
الخميس، 5 سبتمبر 2013
Dr. Grumpy's book club
Today I'd like to review a few books I've enjoyed.
Disclaimer: I am not being paid to write this, nor am I related to any of the authors. I'm also not selling the books on Amazon (though am thinking of trying to unload Frank's Pokemon guides there if he doesn't get them out of the living room).
The first is a new novel written by the totally awesome Fizzy (writing as Freida McFadden), purveyor of high-quality medical cartoons. I am, I must admit, somewhat jealous. Writing a book about the insanity of my practice was always on my to-do list, but as the years went by it became pretty obvious that I'd never have time to do it. So the book became my blog, and is a work in progress until I hang it up.
Anyway, Fizzy wrote The Devil Wears Scrubs. (Available from Amazon here). It details what is likely the most terrifying part of a medical career: the first 1-2 months of residency. Yes, you may have the title "doctor," but that doesn't mean you have a clue as to what's going on. Far from it. And you are more terrified than you have ever been in your life.
The tribulations are familiar to anyone who's done a medical internship: malignant senior residents, brown-nosing co-interns, eccentric attendings, nurses that run the gamut from supportive to hostile, and, in her case, a psychotic roommate (the last didn't apply to me, as I lived alone). Other things she learns to deal with (which are still big issues as an attending on call) are desperately trying to find time to pee, grabbing something to eat before you die or the cafeteria closes, and getting 10-15 minutes of sleep every 24 hours.
I found it to be an accurate, and funny, portrayal of intern life (except I wasn't dating a hunky surgeon).
The second book I read a few years back, but have always meant to write about. Although written by a doctor, it has nothing to do with medicine.
It's by Dr. Doreen Orion, and is a true story called Queen of the Road. She and her husband, both psychiatrists, gave up their practices for a year and bought a bus to drive around the continental U.S. (and a little of Canada) with a dog and 2 cats. The book is an entertaining combination of travel adventures, humor, and personal observations, as well as commentary on shoes, unusual local attractions, a bitchy GPS system, and, at one point, a nudist colony (I SWEAR!). Dr. Orion and I also shared the same curiosity about frost heaves when we first saw a sign warning of them (she thought they were some sort of monster, I thought they were an illness induced from overeating ice cream).
I loved Dr. Orion's book. As a veteran of many North American road trips, as a kid, as a single guy, and now as a parent, I sympathize greatly with her musings and adventures.
The last book, of course, is the one I can never emphasize enough, especially to medical students and residents. It is the one I refer to as the Bible, and is written by my medical idol, Oscar London, M.D.
It's Kill as Few Patients as Possible, and is a collection of 57 essays. Brevity is the soul of wit, and in its few pages an aspiring physician will find a bounty of practical knowledge to use in a career. The book is a bit dated in some ways (drug reps no longer give away free pens), but it also has a certain retro charm. It is, for example only available in a format that the ancients called "paper." This connection, like the 2400 year-old Hippocratic Oath, helps tie us to the ancient physicians of yore. Those long-gone days when someone had to go find a huge copy of a PDR lying around a nursing station to look something up, use a Yellow Pages to find a pharmacy's number, and radiology images were printed on a silver-based substance called "film" (yeah, that was my residency).
Happy reading! It's a great use of your occipital cortex!
Disclaimer: I am not being paid to write this, nor am I related to any of the authors. I'm also not selling the books on Amazon (though am thinking of trying to unload Frank's Pokemon guides there if he doesn't get them out of the living room).
The first is a new novel written by the totally awesome Fizzy (writing as Freida McFadden), purveyor of high-quality medical cartoons. I am, I must admit, somewhat jealous. Writing a book about the insanity of my practice was always on my to-do list, but as the years went by it became pretty obvious that I'd never have time to do it. So the book became my blog, and is a work in progress until I hang it up.
Anyway, Fizzy wrote The Devil Wears Scrubs. (Available from Amazon here). It details what is likely the most terrifying part of a medical career: the first 1-2 months of residency. Yes, you may have the title "doctor," but that doesn't mean you have a clue as to what's going on. Far from it. And you are more terrified than you have ever been in your life.
The tribulations are familiar to anyone who's done a medical internship: malignant senior residents, brown-nosing co-interns, eccentric attendings, nurses that run the gamut from supportive to hostile, and, in her case, a psychotic roommate (the last didn't apply to me, as I lived alone). Other things she learns to deal with (which are still big issues as an attending on call) are desperately trying to find time to pee, grabbing something to eat before you die or the cafeteria closes, and getting 10-15 minutes of sleep every 24 hours.
I found it to be an accurate, and funny, portrayal of intern life (except I wasn't dating a hunky surgeon).
The second book I read a few years back, but have always meant to write about. Although written by a doctor, it has nothing to do with medicine.
It's by Dr. Doreen Orion, and is a true story called Queen of the Road. She and her husband, both psychiatrists, gave up their practices for a year and bought a bus to drive around the continental U.S. (and a little of Canada) with a dog and 2 cats. The book is an entertaining combination of travel adventures, humor, and personal observations, as well as commentary on shoes, unusual local attractions, a bitchy GPS system, and, at one point, a nudist colony (I SWEAR!). Dr. Orion and I also shared the same curiosity about frost heaves when we first saw a sign warning of them (she thought they were some sort of monster, I thought they were an illness induced from overeating ice cream).
I loved Dr. Orion's book. As a veteran of many North American road trips, as a kid, as a single guy, and now as a parent, I sympathize greatly with her musings and adventures.
The last book, of course, is the one I can never emphasize enough, especially to medical students and residents. It is the one I refer to as the Bible, and is written by my medical idol, Oscar London, M.D.
It's Kill as Few Patients as Possible, and is a collection of 57 essays. Brevity is the soul of wit, and in its few pages an aspiring physician will find a bounty of practical knowledge to use in a career. The book is a bit dated in some ways (drug reps no longer give away free pens), but it also has a certain retro charm. It is, for example only available in a format that the ancients called "paper." This connection, like the 2400 year-old Hippocratic Oath, helps tie us to the ancient physicians of yore. Those long-gone days when someone had to go find a huge copy of a PDR lying around a nursing station to look something up, use a Yellow Pages to find a pharmacy's number, and radiology images were printed on a silver-based substance called "film" (yeah, that was my residency).
Happy reading! It's a great use of your occipital cortex!
الأربعاء، 4 سبتمبر 2013
Huh?
Mary: "Dr. Grumpy's office, this is Mary."
Phone Lady: "Hi? What's your fax number? I want to make an appointment with Dr. Grumpy, and send him my records."
Mary: "It's 867-5309."
Phone Lady: "Great! What kind of doctor is he, anyway?"
Mary: "Uh, he's a neurologist."
Phone Lady: "Oh, never mind."
Phone Lady: "Hi? What's your fax number? I want to make an appointment with Dr. Grumpy, and send him my records."
Mary: "It's 867-5309."
Phone Lady: "Great! What kind of doctor is he, anyway?"
Mary: "Uh, he's a neurologist."
Phone Lady: "Oh, never mind."
الثلاثاء، 3 سبتمبر 2013
Weekend on call
DiaStat is an emergency anti-seizure medication in a liquid form, that's given rectally. It's for seizures that are hard to control. It's usually used when you're trying to avoid taking the patient to ER.
This holiday weekend, while on call, I was phoned by a lady who has a daughter with severe epilepsy. Her regular neurologist had already given the family a supply of DiaStat for emergencies.
So when they called to tell me the seizures were out of control, I had her mother give her a dose of DiaStat, without benefit. After I told her to give a 2nd dose, I got called again.
Dr. Grumpy: "This is Dr. Grumpy, returning a page."
Mom Seizure: "Hi, I gave Lisa the 2nd dose like you told me to, then I gave a 3rd dose of DiaStat on my own, and she's still seizing."
Dr. Grumpy: "You're going to have to bring her to the ER, and I'll meet you there. I can't safely give her any more outpatient medication."
Mom Seizure: "I understand, but is there anything else you could do? We really don't want to take her to the hospital. Is there another medication? Or another way of giving DiaStat?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Nothing I'm comfortable with, she needs to get IV medication, and further testing, and..."
Pause
Dr. Grumpy: "What did you mean by "is there another way to give DiaStat?"
Mom Seizure: "Well, the instructions say to give it rectally. I could try doing that."
Pause
Dr. Grumpy: "What the... you haven't been giving it to her rectally?"
Mom Seizures: "No. I've been putting it in her ear."
Dr. Grumpy: "IN HER EAR???!!!!!!!"
Mom Seizure: "Well, since seizures start in the brain, I figured squirting it in her ear would get it there faster. I was afraid putting it in her rear end would be too far away from the brain."
Pause.
Dr. Grumpy: "You need to bring her to ER."
This holiday weekend, while on call, I was phoned by a lady who has a daughter with severe epilepsy. Her regular neurologist had already given the family a supply of DiaStat for emergencies.
So when they called to tell me the seizures were out of control, I had her mother give her a dose of DiaStat, without benefit. After I told her to give a 2nd dose, I got called again.
Dr. Grumpy: "This is Dr. Grumpy, returning a page."
Mom Seizure: "Hi, I gave Lisa the 2nd dose like you told me to, then I gave a 3rd dose of DiaStat on my own, and she's still seizing."
Dr. Grumpy: "You're going to have to bring her to the ER, and I'll meet you there. I can't safely give her any more outpatient medication."
Mom Seizure: "I understand, but is there anything else you could do? We really don't want to take her to the hospital. Is there another medication? Or another way of giving DiaStat?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Nothing I'm comfortable with, she needs to get IV medication, and further testing, and..."
Pause
Dr. Grumpy: "What did you mean by "is there another way to give DiaStat?"
Mom Seizure: "Well, the instructions say to give it rectally. I could try doing that."
Pause
Dr. Grumpy: "What the... you haven't been giving it to her rectally?"
Mom Seizures: "No. I've been putting it in her ear."
Dr. Grumpy: "IN HER EAR???!!!!!!!"
Mom Seizure: "Well, since seizures start in the brain, I figured squirting it in her ear would get it there faster. I was afraid putting it in her rear end would be too far away from the brain."
Pause.
Dr. Grumpy: "You need to bring her to ER."
الاثنين، 2 سبتمبر 2013
الأحد، 1 سبتمبر 2013
Huh?
Cat-Vi was kind enough to send in this picture from a magazine:
It raises a few points:
1. Eggs are not dairy products. Just because the grocery store sells them near the milk does not mean they come from cows. Or mammals in general (yes, I know monotremes lay eggs, but they aren't generally eaten).
2. Pie graphs are supposed to add up to 100%. Not 71%. Even if you're just showing the top 3, you still should have a 29% slice marked "other."
3. Your graph is flawed. It left out broccoli and cauliflower, which have a near-100% allergy rate among children.
Thank you, Cat-Vi!
It raises a few points:
1. Eggs are not dairy products. Just because the grocery store sells them near the milk does not mean they come from cows. Or mammals in general (yes, I know monotremes lay eggs, but they aren't generally eaten).
2. Pie graphs are supposed to add up to 100%. Not 71%. Even if you're just showing the top 3, you still should have a 29% slice marked "other."
3. Your graph is flawed. It left out broccoli and cauliflower, which have a near-100% allergy rate among children.
Thank you, Cat-Vi!
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