Michael

You could ask what the pharmacist asked the duck who brought the lip-balm to the drugstore counter: Shall I put this on your bill?

I see you posted this correctly.. "Funny Stuff"............... :wink:

R/R 911

Unless it was the Moderator whose sense of humor is showing 8)

Thanks Mike.

Yeah, well, sorry to have elbowed in, but, response-time, y'know..

Where did you find this article?

http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/ed20060329a1.html

A fisherman of whom I am a customer just emailed his clients this account of a recent ordeal. I thought it was so well written that I asked and received his permission to post it here. Some of us wonder exactly what happens after the patient is dropped off at the ED. Now you know. Warning: It's a bit graphic.

"Today I had the interesting experience of having my thumb tendon released from its sheath, which as you know was causing me trouble. The surgery took all of 5 minutes, I think it was.

"The surgeon used a miniature DeWalt (heavy-duty) circular saw with thin-kerf diamond encrusted blade to slice open the meaty tissue at the base of my thumb. A bit noisy but tolerable - remember, I had the benefit of local anesthesia. Then, he placed several hooks (they looked like fishing hooks to me) around the nerves and stuff that he needed to hold out of the way. These hooks were connected via stainless steel cables to pulley wheels on the ceiling, and were controlled by a foot pedal. I thought that was a bit of a dicey procedure, but I couldn't get up the courage to ask what happens if he accidentally stepped on the pedal too hard. Then, he hooked up a pair of hydraulically powered scissors to snip through the tendon sheath, which apparently is pretty tough tissue. While in the waiting room, I had wondered what the periodic "thumps" I felt as vibrations through the floor were, as I helped my Mom do her crossword puzzle. I put 2 + 2 together, and figured it out.

"The most interesting thing was sewing up the incision - the surgeon placed my hand in a special cradle and actually used a small Singer sewing machine to sew up the wound. This machine had a horizontal needle pattern, as opposed to the usual up-and-down that our home machines have. But first, he ran by me a selection of different stitch patterns from which I could choose - you know, zig-zag, butterfly, and on and on. I told him I couldn't care less and was perfectly happy with the standard zig-zag. The thought of walking around with some type of girlie stitch pattern in my hand didn't sit too well with me (no offense meant to my female customers - you know I'm not prejudiced, just realistic).

"The surgeon was very happy and has no doubt I will be 100% functional (not sure if that's a double-entendre or not), with no chance of re-occurrence. Meanwhile, as the anesthetic wears off, I am indeed in quite a bit of pain and am completely stressed out by the whole experience (Mom's french toast w/tupelo honey didn't arrive until I had practically finished my scrambled eggs w/bacon, at the Stone Mill Bakery).

"I would be truly grateful - I actually hate to ask - for ... a triple-layer double chocolate layer cake, or chocolate brownies w/gooey chocolate icing and also w/unmelted chocolate chips contained within the brownie (just like my wife makes up at the fish site) will also be greatly appreciated from the bottom of my heart."

The PRN sucrose Rx was a joke, but many took it seriously, poor guy.

Have your foot measured. Your feet actually continue to grow and widen throughout your life.

I've heard that the feet also expand each day (if you use them), so that one should try on and buy shoes only in the afternoon. If that and the above quote are true, I guess they contract again at night, but not completely. Weird. Now I'm wondering about hands. Time to do longitudinal study of major-league catchers...

Interesting question. I tend to go along with those here who predict that public opinion will follow performance and qualifications, rather than a reshuffling of syllables. Part of the problem arises from insecure people can't feel up unless they're putting someone else down, instead of knowing that the service a person provides is not a sign of his or her essential worth, and that, cliche though it is, all our jobs depend on all other jobs (that is, jobs in which real work is accomplished). It would be nice if language didn't undergo continual inflation so that insecure people didn't feel impelled and [literally] entitled to co-opt the label of a "higher" rank, like trash collectors renaming themselves "sanitation engineers." Nowadays when a business card reads "Director of..." you can suspect that office-holder presides over a staff of one, namely himself. It would be nice to live in a society in which people were judged by the content of their character, to coin a phrase.

I don't think manipulating words can, so to speak, engineer respect. Positions that earn the most respect tend to have the simplest, most generic names. But the respect those names evoke in the public also shifts according to the perceived behavior of the most prominent practitioners. "Doctor," which literally means simply "teacher," is still pretty high these days, but its rank is slipping from what it was over the past few generations. Before the Hippocratic Oath's prohibition against harming the patient, doctors were regarded with fear as well as awe because they were in charge of sorcery as well as healing; a house-call might mean your days were numbered. So "Doctor" was once ambiguous, then, as a result of professional housecleaning rather than new terminology, climbed, and has now been slipping again and could slip still further. Good doctors will concede that that's not all bad; patient empowerment and autonomy means demanding that authority be supported by substance, and it also takes the burden off the practitioner to be superhuman. Because of many publicized misdeeds, "Lawyer" is not as high as it used to be, nor is "Priest." I always get suspicious when I hear when someone is an "Educator" rather than a teacher. And the honor assigned to a "Soldier" varies in exact proportion to how threatened by attack a population feels at any moment.

Personally, I'm happy with "Technician." It implies some mastery of technique, which is what you want when something hurts.

Aren't you gonna tell us which spleen it was?

I asked, "Ma'am, will your husband be ok here by himself?" He had his share of problems and I wanted to make sure he'd be ok.

She looked at me and didn't say anything.

I asked again since I knew the wife to be hard of hearing.

She looked at me and blurted out as she started to cry, "He's DEAD! Ok?! He's dead! He's not going to be ok by himself because he's not here because he's DEAD!"

It didn't happen to me and it wasn't on an ems call, and maybe someone will snope it out, but I heard it as true:

In court one day an elderly lady took the witness stand and was asked by the attorney questioning her, "Good morning. Mrs. Phelps. May I ask what you do for a living?"

"I stay at home."

"I see. Well, Mrs. Phelps, may I ask what your husband does?"

"My husband is dead."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize that. Please forgive me. Mrs. Phelps, but do you mind if I ask you then, What did your husband do before he died?'

"He went:" [grabs at her chest with both hands, grimaces and screams]

How is it possible to have a civil war?

And who would want criminal justice?

Ask your patient, as you are fiddling with a piece of equipment, "Do you know how to work this?"

From today's New York Times "Metropolitan Diary":

Dear Diary:

The other day on the A train, a large man dressed in a camouflage sweatsuit was being grilled by a woman about not going to church enough.

He defended himself, saying he showed his devotion to God through his actions, but the woman wasn't satisfied.

She said he had to go to church to win his place in heaven.

Just then, a young woman about 30 feet away doubled over and collapsed.

The man in camouflage was the first on his feet to help her. He propped her head with his backpack and sat on the floor to hold her hand while he directed others to alert the conductor.

When the train stopped at 14th Street, the conductor announced that there would be a delay for a sick passenger, and the man's church friend rushed across the platform to catch a local train.

Meanwhile, he continued to sit with the young woman, holding her hand.

After the police helped her off (she was a cancer patient), the man put on his earphones and returned to his pew in the greater church of New York.

Aaron Garretson

Calvin. How did that happen?

I propose that this practice be restricted to use by the Internal Affairs department of the PD. That way, whenever an ambulance arrives, everyone will know it's either to treat a medical emergency or to arrest (or practice surveillance on) an officer suspected of corruption.

Too late.

Then send him over to the other thread tonight, and take a load off.

Send him over here to give a guest lecture.

Gee, and that was my amusement park.

I can go sit at the local mall and check out the MILF action and make my regular OT rate.

Thank goodness for google, otherwise I'd never have learned about http://www.fas.org/irp/world/para/milf.htm - Say Nate, is your local mall in Mindanao or on one of the neighboring islands? And are there many booths for practicing Occupational Therapy there? Thank goodness for google!

For frequent fliers: "I wanna hold your hand"

Beatles. Now that's old.

dumb question... what's the difference between a

wanker and a wannabe?? or are they virtually the same?

My take:

A wannabe may have a future in the field, because he is open to correction ("Pain: The crack that might flood your brain with light!"), and on that account, like a puppy, will be indulged by veterans.

But a wanker is incorrigible. He falsely broadcasts his competence/expertise by overcompensating with decoration. He poses. His hollowness results from stubbornness and laziness, which may be indistinguishable from a lack of aptitude invisible only to him.

Litmus test: The wanker will never do a search (or spell-check) before posting a question. Speaking of which, putting each of these terms into google after the word define followed a colon makes the difference clear generically, but my impression is that the EMS world, where stakes are high, is just a shade less tolerant, so the two terms are closer together here than in other fields.

Now that's from a wannabe, and proud of it.

Not intended to hit a guy while he's down, and at the risk of forfeiting my candidacy for, oh, 2008's Nicest Poster on the Site, I'm wondering if you'd consider using an avatar that someone else isn't using? I get confused when the same avatar signifies different contributors; it's like similar drug names. At least I think that's what's happening. But do as you see best.

Exactly..if they're at the top of a 10' ladder, and they're 6'2" tall, they don't fall 16' 2"... they fall 10'

Only if they don't go through the floor...

please be harsh in your input.

Harsh input: Whether you're wasting your time means relative to your other options; namely what else you would be doing with that time? Training to do something you loathe?

Falling in love with any type of work is so rare that it would be foolish to deny it; you'd have a hard time afterward not wondering "What if I'd done that?" Most of our regrets are over what we haven't done in life rather than what we have done.

Also, one thing leads unexpectedly to another: By following what attracts you, you discover aspects or related fields (or meet life-changing people) you'd otherwise never have come across, leading to where your true® vocation lies. Something, presumably wholesome, lies in your attraction to emergency medicine. If your interest doesn't remain in pure EMT work, it might be because you've found you're best at responding to the emotional side of patients, an area full of specialties you can then take up. Or you might find you're good with children or old people -- or equipment or personnel or posting on message-boards or race-driving...

>Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, the providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.

Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!<

(W. H. Murray, The Scottish Himalaya Expedition, 1951)

Before you accept someone's telling you that you'd be wasting your time (about anything), ask what would not be wasting your time, and see where that answer seems to be coming from, namely is it spoken out of deep knowledge of your particular aptitudes? If the alternative suggested appeals and you'd overlooked it, you've got your answer. If not, I'd say hesitating is the only waste of your time. And emergency medicine is a good field to unlearn that.