Texting by voice

Marie's Wingnut School girls basketball team had their first win of the season yesterday, and Mrs. Grumpy sent me the results. So I was trying to get Siri to text "Yay!" back.

Yes, we are

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

Mrs. Chart: "Hi, I have an appointment next week, and I need you guys to get my records before then."

Mary: "Okay, but we can't get your records from other places. You need to contact them, and fax a release."

Mrs. Chart: "I've seen 3 other neurologists, and been admitted to 2 hospitals for my problems. I'd think you'd want to have their notes."

Mary: "Yes, the doctor would, but again, you'll need to contact them and have them send records. We can't get them without a release. You can come in here and sign one, or I can fax one to you."

Mrs. Chart: "I don't have time for that. I'm busy. You need to just call them yourself. You can tell them I told you to."

Mary: "Ma'am, it doesn't work that way. There are privacy laws and..."

Mrs. Chart: "Oh, you're one of those practices. Never mind."

Thursday afternoon

Dr. Grumpy: "How long have you been taking Fukitol?"

Mr. Vague: "Um, since I started it."

50 Shades of Neurology

Seen in a hospital chart:

Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more!

We deliver

I needed to mail a chart to another office, which, for whatever reason, doesn't have a working fax this week. So on the way home yesterday I stopped at the post office.


Postal clerk: "That will be $5.21... Thank you. Where are you mailing this to, sir?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Lakeside Grumpyville, about 5 miles north of here, near Main & 28th street."

Postal clerk: "Under security precautions a package of this size cannot be put on a plane, so it will have to go by ground delivery with consequent delay. Will that be ok?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Um, yeah."

Memories...

The university where I went to medical school had a large indoor gym. All students were allowed to use it, but you had to show a student ID to get in. This is pretty standard.

What wasn't standard was Weather Guy.

To this day I don't know what his name was. He never wore a name tag. He was a pleasant, elderly fellow whose sole job was to sit there and check ID's before letting you into the gym.

I have no idea where the school found Weather Guy. For all I know he'd lived on the land when the school was started in 1868, and they built the gym around him and gave him a job. He was never NOT there. Weekends, nights, early mornings, holidays - I don't remember ever seeing anyone but Weather Guy working the gate. Neither did my roommate. Or professors who'd graduated from the school before I was born (the gym building, I believe, predated exercise). For all I know he lived at the entrance desk, and had a cot behind it.

But his most enduring feature was the one that gave him his name: a remarkable inability to discuss topics other than the weather. Nuclear war in progress? Let's talk about the weather. Super Bowl upset? Let's talk about the weather. Flaming car wreck outside the gym? Let's talk about the weather.

Now granted, a LOT of people ramble pointlessly about the weather. This is nothing new. What set Weather Guy apart was his lack of awareness for such.

In retrospect, I'd say he was fairly demented. It didn't take much effort to look at a plastic card and say "go on through." In fact, it would explain why he passed pretty much anyone with a plastic card, whether it was a student ID, credit card, drivers license, or Local Grocery rewards card.

So as you'd go through the line, he'd always say something like "It must be cold out there" or "it's a scorcher today." He'd say this regardless of season, so it was equally likely to be the dead of winter or blazing summer heat, and he'd have a 1-in-4 chance of being in the ballpark.

Of course, this sort of thing couldn't go ignored by college students.

There was a summer day when it was the typical hot & humid, with mosquitoes the size of dinner plates. I was in line behind a guy, and as he walked up Weather Guy guessed right and said "Gonna be a hot one."

This fellow, instead of saying the usual "uh-huh" and moving on, said "Actually a snowstorm just started. It's freezing!" And then went into the gym.

Weather Guy didn't bat an eyelash. As I came up to the counter and took out my ID, he said "It must be cold outside. I hear it's snowing."

On call, Sunday morning

 Overheard at the nurses station at 7:53 a.m.:

"So far we've had 2 try to escape, 3 wander out buck naked, a lady in DT's screaming about spiders, 4 calls to security, the lady in 17 smoking weed in the bathroom, the guy in 24 masturbating in the hallway, and it's not even fucking 8:00 yet."