Dr. Cranquis' Mumbled Gripes

When the first thing you say to the Urgent Care doctor is:

Doc I think I’m gonna die from all this puking and s—-ting!

But the last thing you say to the Urgent Care doctor is:

Naw, f—- that “bland diet” s—-, the medicine worked and I’m gonna go eat a burger!

The Urgent Care doctor will mock you online as fast as possible.

GUARANTEED.

Jack and Jill went up the hill,

to fetch a pail of water.

Jack fell down, due to dizziness from an inner-ear infection, and suffered a depressed skull fracture with intracranial bleed;

so Jill drank all the water herself, but it turned out to be contaminated with Giardia, resulting in a severe bout of diarrhea.

(These are the kinds of things I think about as I’m singing/patting/whispering Baby Cranquis to sleep.)

Remember this story from last week? It got a lot of feedback from you folks, including a few readers who wanted to know “what happened after?”

Well her folks did do the stool studies, which only showed fecal leukocytes (white blood cells in the stool) but no bacteria or parasites or blood. I called a pediatric GI doc who said that was STILL probably due to a urinary tract infection (gee, what was that test I had wanted to do on the child? something about a urine analysis or something? hmm…) and recommended treating her with antibiotics if she was still having fevers.

I then tried to contact the parents at all of the phone numbers listed in the chart. SURPRISE, none of those phone numbers work. I was on the verge of writing them a certified letter, imploring them to call me ASAP, when my secretary found the child’s pediatrician’s phone number. I spoke with that doc, who said the child had come in for a recheck visit (woah! the parents actually followed that instruction!) the day before, and her fevers and diarrhea were gone now.

So, in summary, crisis averted ignored, and she got better, for now.

Oh, and here’s a useful little fact to point out from this story (even though it makes me sound like some kind of money-grubbing greedy bastard, which I am not): all that extra time spent following up on the labs, calling specialists, tracking down phone numbers, writing letters, talking to the primary care provider to ensure that the patient’s case hasn’t been overlooked — that’s all done “gratis” by (many) doctors around the country every day without reimbursement, out of the goodness of our hearts and our sense of obligation to the patient’s well-being. So next time you start to grumble about how your doctor doesn’t take any time for you, keep in mind that he/she is probably spending extra time caring for you when you are NOT in the office. That is all. :)

Say something to a patient, realize that it sounds kind of funny.

Well, I think you should start keeping a diary of your bowel movements to help your doctor figure out whether you are truly lactose-intolerant. You could call it a diarrhea diary - ha!

Think about it for a few seconds after the patient leaves, realize there was a better pun I could have used, feel regret.

Aw man, I should’ve said: “You could call it a dietary diarrhea diary.” Dangit.

That evening, mention it to Mrs. Cranquis over dinner (she has a very strong stomach, thankfully), elicit polite chuckle. Think about it while watching Baby Cranquis in the bath-tub before bed.

Well DUH, I should’ve said it would be a “Dietary Dairy Diarrhea Diary.” I should tell Mrs. Cranquis… uh, never mind.

Dream fitfully about words that start with the “Di” syllable. Next morning, in shower, find myself mumbling.

I wonder if she’s diabetic? Or maybe her diarrhea is caused by food dye?

By that evening, feel like I’m going insane just trying to keep track of the bloated construction.

Ok, so if she is also into Scientology, is losing fluid weight from the watery bowel movements and associated sweating, and only has diarrhea in the daytime, it would be “A Diaphoretic Dianetic Diabetic’s Dietary Dairy and Dye Diuresing Diarrhea Diurnal Diary.”

I think I’m gonna need a sedative just to go to sleep tonight. This is just diabolical.  :S