GOOD LIFE DECISIONS.

GOOD LIFE DECISIONS​

Working in urgent care the other night, I came across an interesting patient. Interesting for you, interesting-five-years-ago-and-now-annoying for me. ​

Some people here refer to Urgent Care shifts as, "Working in the Vagitorium." And they aren't exaggerating. While you see a lot of chest pain when you're working with actual sick people, urgent care shifts consist mainly of ​abdominal pain and 'feminine complaints.' This is the internet, right? I can be gross? Well, here's the kind of stuff that I hear: 

1. It smells like a dead rat down there. 
2. This isn't my usual yellow discharge, it's more green than normal.
3. I think I left a tampon in there a week ago, it's starting to smell bad. 
4. I'm on my period and I'm having cramps.  (I hate you)

The other night, I experienced a combination of numbers 1 and 2.  I had the pleasant experience of seeing a 20 year old female, already with two kids and three abortions, who wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. The picture in the heading should give you a good idea of what she looked like. 

POS (Pillar of Society): Ummm, well, I'm pregnant, and I'm having this weird smelling stuff coming out from down there. 
Dr. Z: Okay. Well that's something that I can definitely take care of for you here today. Can you tell me a little more? 
[I'll spare you the gross details]
Dr. Z:  Are you sexually active during your pregnancy? 
POS: What do you mean? 
Dr. Z: Are you having sex, currently?
POS: Uh huh. 
Dr. Z: Okay. Are you using protection? How many partners do you have? 
POS: I don't like condoms. And I don't know... 50? 60? 
Dr. Z: You're having sex with 50 or 60 people?!?!
POS: Oh. You mean right now?  Since I been pregnant? I'm with four guys on the regular right now...
Dr. Z: I see. ​

Luckily for her, and unluckily for the society that will be forced to take care of her offspring, modern medicine has advanced to the point where we can cure her of all that ails her! After treating her with safe-in-pregnancy antibiotics that will make her 'fresh and so clean-clean' (Rambomycin ©), she was sent on her way with a new lease on life. I plan on seeing her again in about a week, for the usual. I've got a friend that thinks that girls who go to Starbucks don't have herpes - I'm betting this is a Dunkin' Donuts kind of girl. 

YUP. THAT PRETTY MUCH SAYS IT.

EVERY DAY. THIS IS MY LIFE, EVERY DAY. ​

THE iPHONE RUINS MARRIAGES... AND CARS.

THE iPHONE RUINS MARRIAGES

For the last few years, a great debate has raged across all of North America. What does this debate address?
Is it the declining economy? ​
Is it the gross mismanagement and incompetence that exists at all levels of government? 
Is it the insanity that led to the canceling of Arrested Development? 
Is it the crisis that our health care system currently faces, with growing numbers of people without health insurance, and fewer doctors and hospitals to serve them? 
Is it the NHL locking out its players for the third time in 18 years? 
Is it about how Beyoncé can possibly be named Sexiest Woman Alive when Sarah Jean Underwood exists? 

No. No to all of the above. 

This debate addresses something much more serious. WHICH PHONE IS BETTER?! 
Apple people love the iPhone, and won't stand to hear arguments to the contrary. Droid users hate on Apple people, citing their fanboy love as completely blinding them to the holes present in their platform. And then there are the old people who use Nokias and don't think that there is any reason a phone should be anything more than 9 numbers and a dialtone. 

Although I can't proclaim to have the answer to the above argument, I can provide to you this definitive statement. The iPhone ruins marriages - and cars. 

It was a quiet day in the ER not so long ago when I was called in to our trauma bay to care for a VIP.  From time to time, somebody comes through the ER who needs to be treated with kid gloves. Roll out the best 'used to be bloody but now are clean' hospital linens! Get him a sandwich! Make sure we don't put him next to the demented guy who poops himself every three minutes! Stuff like that. It's never somebody actually important - usually it's the brother of a cousin of a guy who used to sleep with the CEO's old babysitter. That kind of thing. 

Anyway, this time the VIP is the brother of somebody who actually is important. Cool, eh? Not really. The really cool part is the story.

DR. Z: Hi there, sir. What brings you into the emergency department today?
VIP: Well, I was driving my car a few minutes ago and I got in a bad car accident. I was able to drive myself here, but my car is pretty much ruined.
DR. Z: I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad that you seemed to avoid any serious injury.
VIP: I think I'm alright for the most part, but my left shoulder really hurts.
DR.Z: Alright, let's get you out of that shirt and into a gown so we can do a proper physical examination. I'll help you, since it seems as though you can't move your left arm too much.
​[ as we remove his shirt, his Blackberry falls out of his shirt pocket, hits the cold hard floor, and breaks apart into three or four pieces, which scatter throughout the trauma bay] ​
VIP: Oh, don't worry about it, it happens all the time. It'll be fine once I put it back together. 
DR. Z:  That sucks. You know what doesn't break apart when it hits the ground? The iPhone. You should get an iPhone. ​
VIP: I HATE THE iPHONE. It ruined my marriage. 
DR. Z: Huh? 
VIP: I was at the club one night with some honeys, and I accidentally butt dialed my wife - with my iPhone. She heard everything... and now we're divorced.  The iPhone is the reason that my life is upside down - it's the reason I got in an accident today!
DR. Z: Today? I thought you have a Blackberry now... 
VIP: I DO. But the reason I was even driving today was because I was driving across town to see my kids - they live with their mom now. If the iPhone never butt dialed my wife, we would still be together, and I never would have gotten into an accident today. I hate the iPhone. 

Yup. The iPhone is the cause of all of your worries. And you are the reason that America's collective IQ is decreasing. 

I HAVE FUNNY PARENTS.

I HAVE FUNNY PARENTS​

​I live quite the distance from my parents, so I don't get to see them nearly as often as I'd like. I think of them often, and I'm excited to move home so that I can be closer to them. This gets more important every day, as they are pretty much on the verge of overwhelming dementia, and every day that goes by is one day closer to me having to move them into my basement full time. I'd like to enjoy them a little more before I spend their last days opening the basement door only to slide down leftovers and the occasional bottle of water. 

Being that I live far away, my mother calls me approximately 18 times a week. This I don't mind, mainly because of how funny she is. My dad, being a man, doesn't really call that often - but that's okay, too, because he's always there to yell things out in the background while my mom has me on the line. This transpired tonight: ​

Dr. Z: Hey ma, what's up? 
Mama Z: Just spending some time with your dad and your loving dogs. They miss you.
Dr. Z: I know. I'll be home in a week to see them! Not you, though. Just them.
Mama Z: Remember when you told me that once you became a doctor, you would fly me out for two vacations a year?
Dr. Z: Yeah yeah yeah. ​
(10 minutes of conversation later)
Mama Z: Okay, honey, I love you. Your dad loves you and says that he wants nothing but the best for you. 
Dr. Z: Tell him I feel the same, which is why he should've left you years ago. It's not too late!
Mama Z: Do you think if I asked for child support, they would grant it to me? Even though all of you kids are over 18? 
Papa Z: *faintly, in the background* I don't care! I'll pay it as long as you go!!

These are the days of our lives. ​

WORD OF THE DAY #3.

VOMICKING​

In the same vein as ambalamps, this one comes to you courtesy of God knows who. 
I know this is only personal experience, but I'm going to go with 75-85% percent of all of my patients use this word.  How unbelievable is that?  I always assumed that even those with basic, grade school education would have seen the word spelled on a chalkboard or written in a book hundreds of times. Throw in television, which oftentimes is babysitter and teacher for a lot of underprivileged children, and I have to assume that a person has been exposed to the word vomit well over a thousand times, if not more. 

Patient: I been vomicking all day. 
Dr. Z: Vomiting? How many times? 
Patient: Yeah, vomicking. I vomicked when I got here too. 
Dr. Z: And did you have any diarrhea? Or was it just... was it just... 
Patient: Just vomicking.
Dr. Z: Have you been able to eat or drink anything?
Patient:  Nope. I just been vomicking too much. 

So how does this come about? Who knows. Really, who cares. One thing I do know, though, is that I will attempt to make them say vomick as many times as possible during our conversation, a la "Meow" in Super Troopers. Hey, if you can't have fun at your job, then what's the point?​