This is how I have felt all day long. I have sat here and typed, sat here and typed, and sat here and typed and only become angrier and more frustrated and totally weirded out. No, this is not a psychotic break. I am about to go upstairs and go out for a nice steak dinner which I am going to thoroughly enjoy and probably come back and watch “Numb3rs” which is one of my favorite shows and all will be well. But work today has just put me in a TIZZY. To elucidate, my dear Watsons:
“The patient will flop splaying”
And more that are even so bizarre it’s not even worth putting here. The first one is dear ol’ Dr. Mumbles’ way of saying “The patient will go home from the hospital today.” Yeah, really. That’s how the speech “recognition” software translates his mush-mouthing of every word. Seriously, you would think this guy was in a ventriloquist competition or something, like he can’t move his lips when he talks.
I was a drama major, okay? I spent MONTHS of my life standing in front of mirrors with wine corks jammed in between my molars, reciting fucking Shakespeare, people. Speaking clearly is easy! JUST MOVE YOUR LIPS when you talk. It’s not asking a lot, I don’t think. It can be done, even by over-educated, under-caring doctors.
“Tenosynovitis” is “the inflammation of a tendon and its enveloping sheath” according to Stedman’s medical dictionary. It is NOT, I repeat, NOT someone’s name. “Hi, my name is Tina, Tina Synovitis.” Good GOD.
On the other hand, there is a particular surgical instrument called a “Kerrison rongeur” which is slowly becoming a very suave, yet evil, doctor character in a book I probably need to write one day. Or maybe he’s a spy. Yeah, that’s the ticket…a sociopathic spy who blames all of his woes and troubles on his late mother and father who named him after this:
Can’t you hear him being paged in an airport: “Dr. Rongeur, Dr. Kerrison Rongeur, please pick up a white courtesy phone!” Oh, the possibilities!
It’s going to be a GREAT weekend!
Have fun, guys….