Ah! Happy Hour!

Looking forward to Friday...

I tried to verify that there was something specific that he wanted me to test for.

"No, I just want to get tested for everything."

Testing 'for everything' involves something in the neighborhood of two hundred to three hundred individual lab tests, and requires specimens of blood, urine, stool, semen, saliva, and sputum. You'd be dead by the time we got all the specimens we needed in order to test "for everything". But at least we could see what would have killed you if we hadn't drained all of your blood.

He is a healthy male in his twenties, so I'm running a routine metabolic panel, thyroid, and cholesterol panel.

I give him 10 out of 10 for health awareness. But 0 out of 10 for clinical practicality...

If you hear in the news that Tacoma, Washington burned down, you'll know the reason why.

I'm fixin' to wreak Stalingrad-level destruction up in here if they're not taken off my schedule and thrown to the pediatrician. Which, by the way, is why we hired a pediatrician: pediatric patients!

For the record, it is not the patients themselves who trigger this kind of a threat-response; they're almost always complete angels. It's the parents. If you have never wanted to personally test the aerodynamic properties of a grown human being, try sitting in on a visit with a pedes patient and their parent/guardian.

I've lost track of the number of spectacularly wrong-headed sperm-and-egg donors I've drop-kicked out of my clinic for being anti-vaxxers. When they drag three or more kids into my exam room for school physicals and bleat "just get 'em all done at once!", I start looking for a window to jump out of. I've had parents holding babes-in-arms in all obliviousness to poop-in-diapers while I'm examining the kids who graduated out of Huggies Pullups, gagging and trying not to vomit the whole time.

My clinic is for adult homeless patients. Kids and mainstream patients go to our mainstream clinic two blocks away.

Okay...... *tests pulse, breathes deeply*

Showtime...

A pet peeve of mine is cutesy euphemisms for one of humanity's most important, and ultimately inescapable, transition points: death.

I see obituaries all the time is which the loved one is reported to have "passed", "passed away", "passed on", "gone home to glory","gone to be with Jesus", "gone to be with the angels", and probably the most annoyingly provincial "GONE FISHIN'!"

I read a book recently written by a doctor working in a teaching hospital in New York City. She reports taking on a new nurse for overnight care in the geriatric ward. One morning, she comes in to receive the nurse's overnight report on patient status. The new nurse, who hailed from someplace in the deep South, announced that one of their patients "had passed."

"Passed what? Passed urine? Passed stool?"

"No...she...she passed away. She passed on."

"......You mean she died?"

"Yes."

"Then say 'she died'! This isn't East Cornpone or wherever you're from! Use medical terminology here."

If someone were to say to me that such a euphemism can ease the pain and grief of the loved ones, I would simply say death is death. The loved ones will not grieve less or feel less pain if we take ridiculous steps to avoid using the words "death", "dead", or "died".

And not just because I was a tank crewman in the Army.

Listen to the music. It's heartbreakingly beautiful...

YUM!

It makes for a delicious White Russian...

A happy week for us all. Let’s celebrate!

I love you all...

I could use some company.

Not all of my patients are able to sleep at the shelter at night. And of course, most shelters prohibit daytime acitivity, opening only at night. So a lot of my patients are either sleeping out in this mess, or having to walk around all day breathing this terrible air, or both.

As usual with any catastrophe, the poor get hit the hardest. No one is going to do anything about climate change until it starts to adversely affect the rich.