I’m hopelessly addicted to drugs. You name a pill, syrup, lotion, cream, antacid, vitamin, tranquilizer, hormone, douche or suppository and I’ve not only taken it, but I’ve abused it. Largely because I have an addiction. Anything worth taking is worth taking a lot. In all fairness, I can’t take the blame for my wayward behavior. It began the day I popped out of my mother’s womb when the pediatric nurses started basting me with petroleum jelly and baby lotion like I was a Thanksgiving turkey. In those days, babies were always covered with something. Pediatricians were convinced by the drug companies that it was dangerous for a baby’s skin to…
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The Doctor Wiww See You Now Problems with voice and diction? Elmer Fudd to the wescue
After spending a week in the ICU, the only residual effect keeping me from returning to work was a minor pronunciation impediment, so my neurologist recommended I start working with a speech pathologist. Fortunately, one of the country’s top specialists worked right down the street. Being in the entertainment industry, I’d heard of the doctor and the valuable work he was doing with celebrities. He was instrumental in eliminating Daffy Duck’s lisp, Porky Pig’s stuttering and Foghorn Leghorn’s southern drawl. He’d also worked with the Roadrunner to expand his miniscule vocabulary from meep meep to that of a graduate student in English literature. I was ushered into an exam room…
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The Vampire Will See You Now The art and science of phlebotomy
I can’t stand the sight of blood. I’m not too wild about vomit or feces, either, but I’ve managed to evade both by steering clear of retirement homes and small children. So, when it came time to train as a phlebotomist, I surprised everyone. Including myself. I’d always wanted to be a vampire. I was enrolled in a graduate program for Mortuary Science when it came time to write my thesis. I pleaded with my advisor to let me wash her car instead, but it was inevitable I’d be spending the next 2 years pulling long nights in the library. I managed to escape it for a while by failing…
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Become a Breast Surgeon – On-line! My twelve weeks on the road through medical school and more breasts than I'd ever seen!
As a terminated, over-the-hill computer operator I never dreamed that I’d have an opportunity so late in life to strut down the halls of a major medical center as a world renowned breast surgeon, barking out orders on my way to scrubbing up for a mastopexy. Up until now, all those years of drinking, bong smoking and my worthless junior college transcript relegated me to a life of dirty, low-paying jobs and the accompanying low self esteem. Going to medical school wasn’t even on my radar screen until the sagging economy, a shortage of new physicians and skyrocketing malpractice premiums made it possible for me to reach up and grab…
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Where the Sun Don’t Shine You want to stick THAT up where?
About the time I reached my fiftieth birthday, I experienced two inevitable milestones. The first was “The Letter” from AARP. The second was a reminder from my internist that it was time for my first colonoscopy. The AARP Letter magically appeared in my mailbox while I was in my late forties, inviting me to join the American Association of Retired People. It was the first time that I officially felt old. The week before, I was thinking about skydiving out of helicopters, running around with women half my age, racing formula one cars and skiing chest deep powder in Alaska. After getting The Letter, I became focused on reverse mortgages,…
