How Different Specialities React

I'm busy this weekend, so I thought I'd leave this for my faithful ardent readers (all three of you. Three and a half if my neighbour brings his dog, who doesn't really read but will at least stare at the screen if you scratch his butt --Editor) to giggle over. This is a clever bit of wordplay on how different medical specialities react to changes.

The British Medical Association has weighed in on Prime Minister David Cameron's health care proposals:

The Allergists voted to scratch it, but the Dermatologists advised not to make any rash moves.

The Gastroenterologists had a sort of a gut feeling about it, but the Neurologists thought the Administration had a lot of nerve.

The Obstetricians felt they were all labouring under a misconception. Ophthalmologists considered the idea short-sighted.

Pathologists yelled, "Over my dead body!" while the Paediatricians said, "Oh, Grow up!"

The Psychiatrists thought the whole idea was madness, while the Radiologists could see right through it.

The Surgeons were fed up with the cuts and decided to wash their hands of the whole thing.

The ENT specialists didn't swallow it, and just wouldnt hear of it. The Pharmacologists thought it was a bitter pill to swallow, and the

Plastic Surgeons said, "This puts a whole new face on the matter...."

The Podiatrists thought it was a step forward, but the Urologists were pissed off at the whole idea.

The Anaesthetists thought the whole idea was a gas, but the Cardiologists didn't have the heart to say no.

In the end, the Proctologists won out, leaving the entire decision up to the arseholes in London.

Found via Dr Zorro's blog. Now don't cry, dear readers, I'll be back again real soon. I know loads and loads of you wait with anticipation every day just to see what else I've writte--

Dammit.

If you liked/close to liked/maybe smiled a little at this post, consider liking my Facebook page. You know Justin Bieber fanpages on Facebook who have more likes than me. Is that fair? Ask yourself honestly. The truth is out there*.

(*the truth is you should like my Facebook page)

When Doctors Troll

(Note: This post was published originally in 2007, but was taken down at the request of the doctor mentioned, as he's become quite well-known. All names have been changed to protect privacy.)

When I was a baby medic*, we were given a talk by Dr Noob, the author of a now-popular textbook, who gave us a grave warning about why you should never accept chocolate from a doctor.

On Dr Noob's first day at a new hospital, a senior doctor walked up and shook his hand. "Hey, I'm Dr M. Welcome to Freakshow General Hospital**," he grinned, and gave Dr Noob a Cadbury Creme Egg. "It's always been a tradition here to give the new doctor one of these. For good luck. Eat up, and if you have any questions, I'd be happy to help."

"Wow, thanks, that's really nice of you." Dr Noob popped the egg into his mouth and picked up a patient's chart. "Actually I do have a question; see this--"

But Dr M cut him off. "Actually Doctor, I'd like you to check the medication I've just administered, ."

Dr Noob looked at him. There were no patients around to give medication to. Then Dr M grinned evilly.

"Oh, didn't I say? It's also always been the tradition that the chocolate egg given to the new guy is injected with furosemide." (Furosemide is a water tablet that makes you pee. If you STILL have no idea what I'm talking about, here's a clue. --Ed.)

Dr M patted Dr Noob on the shoulder. "If I were you, I'd stay close to the toilet today, old chap. Wet pants flop a lot when you walk. Cheers!" And off he went. And you can imagine what the rest of the day was for poor old Dr Noob. 

And so a rivalry started between the two young doctors. But after a few weeks, they became friends, and two months after the whole incident, Dr Noob told Dr M, "You know, we've become friends now. Let bygones be bygones. Here, have a Cadbury Egg. As a token of peace." Dr M was suspicious, but Dr Noob said he'd take one too. So they both ate one.

Then Dr Noob stood back, grinned insanely, and said, "And now, Doctor, I'd like YOU to check the medication I've just administered."

Dr M's eyes widened. "Oh no you didn't."

Dr Noob stared at him for a moment, then smiled. "Heh. Nah, I didn't."

Dr M sighed with relief. "For a moment there, Noob, I tho--"

"I injected castor oil instead." (Castor oil is a laxative. It makes you shoot more shit out of your ass than Mitt Romney shoots out of his mouth. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here. --Ed.)

Dr M froze.

Dr Noob slapped him on the back and said, "If I were you, I'd stay close to the toilet today, old chap. Pity that scrub pants don't come in brown colour." And off he went.

And you thought doctors only stayed crazy whilst they were still in university...

*yes, I was young once. DON'T MAKE A HAIR JOKE. If you make a hair joke I will track you down, break into your house and stuff a wig made from Britney Spears' shaven hairs into an orifice of my choice. Then I'll plead 'temporary insanity' to the judge. This blog is all the proof I need that I'm batshit insane anyway.

**hospital name changed to protect privacy. Hospitals have feelings too, you know.

Student Season Open!

It's the beginning of term!

All across Cambridge, library space is at a premium. Lines form outside libraries as angry nerds clutching piles of textbooks glare at the slow-walking porter (whom I suspect walks even slower just for kicks) ambling to the library door to unlock it before deftly leaping to one side to avoid being crushed underfoot by a mob that would make a Boxing Day Sales crowd blush.

Lectures started today officially (term in Cambridge starts on a Thursday, thanks to an obscure rule in a rulebook somewhere written by an ancient Cambridge don with a sense of humour and too much free time --Editor) but of course, knowing my luck, I had one scheduled yesterday. Halfway through the Psychology lecture, which was on how babies think, those of us left with consciousness levels higher than the average heroin addict managed to catch this particular exchange:

Professor: ...and so for a long time it was questioned whether infants integrated visible parts into wholes.

And then, from the back row of the class, barely a whisper but still very audible:

"You can integrate MY visible part into your whole anytime, baby."

That woke us up.