Monthly Archives: June 2009

Advil! Stat! NOW!

Posted on by patrickhmorris
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I’ve thought about it long and hard…I’m pretty sure this is what it would be like if I were a doctor.

I should start by apologizing. I’m rarely wearing this hat. The receptionist who greeted you when you came in has been having “home problems” and I’m wearing this to give her a laugh. I don’t know what it is about a doctor in a sombrero, but it makes people feel good.

Please don’t mention I said the receptionist was having “home problems.” I’m slightly embarrassed because I’m not sure if she means that she’s having problems with her house or her husband. In all honesty, I don’t even know if she has either and I’m too embarrassed to ask her.

Now, what seems to be the pro – I should also say that if the sombrero becomes a distraction in anyway, I will gladly take it off. Although, I can’t imagine my hair looks any less distracting. Hello, Mr. Hat Head!

Ok, so…what seems to be the problem?

Shit. I was hoping you were going to say it was something with your stomach. My favorite patients are the ones that come in complaining of stomach pains. They respond to plecebos incredibly well and most of the time, it’s just gas.

Now then, you have a hurt shoulder. Have you taken Advil? And it still hurts? Really? I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I feel like a shoulder injury would feel completely better with the simple application of Advil through oral…taking.

Have you done any activities that could be attributed to this injury? If you’re having a hard time understanding me, it’s because I’m talking in doctor speak. I will switch to patient speak if you feel more comfortable. When did you bang up your top arm spot? Playing hockey? That makes sense. Hockey can be a very violent sport. My mother wouldn’t let me play hockey because I begged her not to let me.

So the first step to recovery is to give up hockey all together which shouldn’t be a problem since you’re not a professional. I’m assuming you’re not a professional for several reasons, but the biggest one is that I saw you pull into the parking lot and I doubt professional athletes drive Oldsmobiles.

I know I’m just your doctor and I’m not your life coach, but you’re not good enough to play hockey professionally and you’re not even good enough to play without getting hurt. Maybe it’s time we put up the skates and learn HTML or something?

Now, does it hurt when I do this? Yes? Ok, how about this? I should have known that would have hurt since it’s pretty much the exact thing I did before, but harder. Does it hurt if I touch your chest here? Just to let you know, I’m a breast man and am not checking for anything, I’m just touching your breasts. Just joking, I’m checking to see how your breasts feel. I guess I should use the technical term pectorals since most men don’t like being told they have breasts. Oh well, you’re a rough and tumble kind of guy, I’m sure you’re ok with someone cupping a jug and calling them breasts, right?

Have you taken any Advil? You have? And the pain hasn’t gone away? Hmmm…ok, we’ll have to do some more tests to figure out the severity of the injury. Can you please reach out and type some numbers on this calculator. Now, does any number hurt more or less than the others? All the same? Ok. Let’s try the other arm. I know you didn’t hurt your left arm, but you have to balance all tests with a…a…what do you call that? You know, when you’re doing an experiment and you leave one of the samples normal? I really should know this. I’d look it up in one of those books, but they’ve all been glued to the shelf. Don’t even ask why.

Would you describe the pain in your shoulder as a, “Hi” pain or a, “Hey” pain? I see…now, was the Advil taken orally? Were other methods of ingestion considered? How many tablets were in the original package? I find that larger quantity, family sized, packs are more potent. I think it has to do with Darwin and competitive advantage or something like that.

I’m sorry, I know I’ve asked you this, but…you’ve taken Advil already, right? Ok, I just want to make sure because 90% of all ailments I’m capable of treating can be cured by the application of Advil. Bet you’re wondering about the other 10%. Well, mind your own business. I didn’t pry into your personal life and ask how you hurt your stupid shoulder, did I? I’m so angry I could scream.

Just some doctor humor for you. Listen, I’ll be honest. I can either take an MRI which is actually me hovering my cell phone over you and going, “doo doo dee dee doooo” or you can schedule another appointment with my partner – not gay partner, medical partner, mind you – for some time later in the week.

I think you’ve made an excellent choice. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m too lazy to come up with anything else I’m going to do and would like to remain sitting for a few minutes. Have a great day. Keep that leg elevated.

Stick a Needle in Me, I’m Done

Posted on by patrickhmorris
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I have subscribed to the Ignore It And It Will Go Away School of Medicine for most of my life. When that hasn’t worked I’ve been known to dip into the Placebo School of Medicine. This involves crediting a specific substance, activity or form of lighting as the one sole cure for my ailment based on nothing more than a hunch or ease of use. I’ll sit down, close my eyes and ask my body what it needs to get better. “Chicken, you say?”

It’s ignorant, it’s lazy and it’s daft, but it works for me. Of course, not all physical ailments can be cured by adding chicken or a warm Guinness to your day. For instance, if I were to get shot in the stomach I’d like to think I would march my ass towards the nearest emergency room before trying to figure out the nearest place to get cheese puffs and root beer.

Recently I’ve been struck with a situation in between a sneeze and a bullet in the tummy – a nagging pain in my wrist. It’s painful enough for me to notice 2-5 times a day, but mild enough for me to think nothing more than, “There’s my wrist.” Some people have told me to rest it and the problem will go away. Some have insisted I go and get x-rays so that the doctor can tell me to rest it and the problem will go away.

The problem is I’m not using my wrist in any way that can be rested more. If reaching into my pockets, using my computer and opening doors are what’s keeping my wrist from healing, then I’m either going to have to live with this pain or wrap my entire arm in a tight fitting cast and do everything as if I were the drummer for Def Leopard.

Unless, there were a way to magically rid myself of this nagging pain that didn’t include doctors, chicken or homemade casts made of oven mits and duct tape…and that’s how I was introduced to acupuncture. I’ve been wanting to try acupuncture for a few years, but didn’t have a specific injury that I could point to and say, “This is why I’m here”. Now that I had something, I started doing my research. Apparently acupuncture isn’t only for pains in the wrist. Here is a general list of what acupuncturists can cure:

Addictions (alcohol, nicotine, and other drugs)
Allergies/Asthma
Anemia Anxiety/Depression
Back pain
Bladder/Kidney problems
Common colds/Flu Constipation/diarrhea
Fatigue
Gynelogical disorders (irregular menstruation, menopause, PMS)
High blood pressure
Infertility
Numbness/Poor circulation
Sexual dysfunction/ Impotence
Skin problems
Ulcers/indigestion
Spelling problems
Hat hair
Saying “like” too much
Chewing in a way that disgusts people
Under tipping
Staring at people who are attractive

Who knew that by shoving some needles in your body you can solve just about any kind of problem in the world!?

I called a few places to get a better understanding of pricing and procedure. Most places charge a fee between $100 – $150 and claim to be able to cure most conditions in 2-4 sessions. That means for $200 – $600 you can pretty much cure anything.

This brought up the big question – does acupuncture really work? If you ask someone who performs acupuncture they’ll undoubtedly say yes. However, I can’t help notice that it was impossible for me to come up with an ailment they said they couldn’t fix.

Think of an acupuncturist as a waiter at a diner. When I ask, “What’s good here?” I want them to guide me away from the stuff on the menu that the cooks snicker at when someone orders? When a waiter at a diner says, “Everything is good here,” they are basically saying, “Nothing is good here.” Trust me, mac n’ cheese isn’t good just cause it’s a dish that includes macaroni pasta and cheese. I would trust an acupuncturist more if they told me, “Look, I can get rid of your wrist pain, but all that stuff I said about high blood pressure was total shit.” Nothing is a cure-all and no diner has good hollandaise sauce.

If you ask someone who has had acupuncture performed on them, they also will sing its praise. That should be all the proof I need, right? Of course, there are three reasons someone would give a raving review:
1) Acupuncture really worked for them
2) It worked because of its placebo effect
3) It qualifies as a, “I paid too much for it to say I made a mistake,” situation

Option three scares me the most. It’s entirely possible that acupuncture falls in the same category as cars and weddings? When is the last time you saw someone pull up in a new car and go, “I can’t believe I bought this piece of junk. I made a horrible decision. The seats are uncomfortable, the gas mileage sucks and I could have gotten this car at another dealership for $4,000 less”?
How about getting married? I’m convinced people spend as much as they do on weddings to keep the bride or groom admitting they made a mistake and backing out at the last minute. I bet this conversation happens at every wedding:
“I just don’t love him, Mom”
“Your father and I spent a fortune on this day! You’d goddamn better love him!”
“But money shouldn’t be a reason to get married”
“Yes it is! Love is an $800 cake. Now put that dress on and stop crying!”

I was also a little worried about the possible placebo effect. During my research I found an article that claimed the therapeutic effects of acupuncture were brought on by simply getting stabbed with a sharp needle, not by their placement at all.

Great! As long as there is a DIY option, I’m going to take it. I spent the next few days looking around my apartment surveying the sharpest things I owned (which, in order, were nail clippers, fork, edge of counter).

Will acupuncture work for my wrist? Should I just have them stick a needle into every square inch of my body to “fix everything”? Part of me would like to think it’s as incredible as people claim it to be. I Hope acupuncture is more spiritual medicine than new age scam. I also Hope they can get the fork out of my wrist or else it’s going to get infected.

The Technicolor Yawn: An Essay on Vomit

Posted on by patrickhmorris
1

On a completely self-fulfilling note…this is my 100th post. Celebrate!

I can’t decide if I think vomit is a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, it’s smelly, chunky, bile ridden sludge that looks like cottage cheese mixed with toxic snot. On the other, it’s kinda funny. Like many other embarrassing or gross things, the defining line between funny and horrible is proximity. Guy pukes on himself in the subway, funny. Guy pukes on you, not nearly as funny. You are the guy, big fat zero on the funny scale.

Since the conflict for me is fierce, I’m going to talk about throwing up as if I had never done it.

For instance, I’m going to forget that it was a green shirt wearing me who threw up in the hallway on St. Patrick’s day when I was in the 2nd grade. I’m going to assume it was someone else’s vomit that was cleaned up, as if we went to school in a barn, by the simple application of sawdust. If I were that kid, I’m sure I would have learned the ultimate lesson in embarrassment that day as every kid in the school walked to their next class laughing at the kid holding a wet nap by the pile of sawdust. How does sawdust clean vomit off of the floor, you might ask? Well, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t. I think it’s a way for janitors to teach kids to think twice before pulling the rip-cord on the floor ever again. If I had ever puked on the floor, I’m sure I would have rather put my head in a wood chipper than vomit on the floor again.

I’m also going to assume that what comes shooting out of people’s mouths (and occasionally out of their noses) is equivalent to the physical embodiment of bunny smiles. Ok, that might not be an apt comparison, but let’s just assume it’s that slime stuff from Nickelodeon’s You Can’t Do That on Television.

For instance, I’m not going to gag when I think about the time Ferman Mandel asked if I wanted to see a trick after announcing he didn’t feel good. I learned that day that the worst thing you can hear a kid say after they tell you they don’t feel good is, “Do you want to see a trick?” In my experience, when you hear that, it means that Ferman Mandel is going to tilt his head back and puke straight up into the air like he’s a fountain. What made Ferman’s projecting display more horrible was that it happened on a school bus and I was the poor sucker sitting next to him who had just said, “I love tricks!” Man I got slimed with bunny smiles that day.

While it’s hard to convince someone that the puddle on the carpet or the action of watching it shoot out of someone’s body in a, “I’m breaking through this door!” way is funny, it’s impossible to not laugh at the language of puke.

When you say the phrase – “I threw up,” you’re really saying something different all together. You’re saying, “I went too far,” “I’m officially sick,” “I’m pregnant,” or “I shouldn’t have eaten sushi from a gas station.” If my experience is universal, then it also can mean, “Bacardi 151 isn’t something I should drink straight to impress a girl,” or “I ate 5 donuts out of a dumpster because I didn’t want to spend the $2 for non-rancid ones and the first four tasted funny and I wanted to end on a good note.”

Even the various names we give to throwing up makes me laugh. People can vomit, barf, puke, up chuck, worship the porcelain god, spew, hurl, blow chunks, bark at the ants (which don’t make no sense to me), boot, toss your cookies, do the Technicolor yawn, Ralph, yack and (my favorite) sell the Buick (who would ever say this?). Is there any other thing we do that has as many slang terms associated with it? It’s not like when you sneeze people go, “Harry needs a tissue because he Snibbed,” or “Harry just took his aunt to the glue factory.” They just say sneezed. How pedestrian.

Unfortunately, in the end, it’s not funny when you’re the one directly involved. I wasn’t laughing when I had to turn my shirt inside out to hide the dribble stains in that grade school hallway. I wasn’t chuckling when my mother made me stand outside while she hooked up the hose after my bus ride with Ferman. I was disgusted, embarrassed and confused as to why our bodies would do something so gross and horrible. When I think of laying on a cold linoleum floor or wrapping my hands around a toilet, I feel no comfort from how funny it is to call puking the Technicolor Yawn. At that point, it’s just gross.