Give Me Da News
By John Gray
I have a confession to make—I’ve always wanted to be a doctor. Think about it. The pay is great, you never have to worry about what to wear to work (one white jacket is all you need), you get to talk to cute nurses all dayand you use cool medical jargon that makes you sound really smart. Even if you’re not the sharpest scalpel in the drawer like me, youjust say a bunch of ridiculously long words like “metacarpal” in a sentence and then shout, “STAT”. Do you actually know what STAT means? I looked it up in a medical book I purchased at the dollar store and it stands for Someone Took Allison’s Tent. Now, I don’t know who Allison is or why she’s tenting, but that’s just plain wrong that someone would steal her stuff. I hope the police have a suspect.
Anyway, back to my medical career. So I was going to be a doctor except for a few hurdles. First, I could never manage more than a grade of ‘C’ in biology and apparently (and I was as shocked as you to learn this) you have to be good at science to be a doctor. Also, the teachers get really upset if you make jokes about the human anatomy during class. Example—shouting out to the professor, “Rectum? I damn near killed him.” What? Ithought it was funny.
The other nice thing about being a doctor is your parents get to tell every single person they meet for the rest of their lives, “Did I mention my son’s a doctor?!” They can even work it into everyday conversations. “You see that tall building over there? If someone fell off of that they’d most certainly need a doctor. Did I mention my daughter is a doctor?” This bragging thing only works with doctors andlawyers I think. I mean when is the last time you heard someone say, “Hey, I notice your garbage can in the kitchen is overflowing a bit. There may be a way to shove more trash in that can. Why don’t I call my son the garbage man and ask him what he thinks.” Just doesn’t have the same effect.
If I was a doctor, I would have to specialize in an area of medicine where no one dies and I don’t have to touch any part of a person’s body that I consider icky. Which means the feet, mouth, inner ear and anything between the belly button and knees is out. Elbows don’t bother me. Can you specialize in ‘elbow medicine’? I could be the expert in repairing tennis elbow. And it’s not like you are going to have someone die on the operating table. Okay, you might botch the surgery and your patient might not be able to hold a cup of coffee in that hand anymore. But they have two elbows right? So the person goes through life with the nickname ‘lefty’. This is what malpractice insurance is for.
I’m always nervous I’m going to get a horrible doctor when I go in for a checkup. You know the old joke, “What do they call the guy who graduates last in his medical class?” Answer—Doctor. I think back to some of my college classmates who slept late, skipped class and cheated on their finals. I’m worried this is the guy I’ll have poking me down there. Speaking of which, guys, were you aware that doctors no longer do the ‘turn your head and cough’ thing during a physical? No kidding. I was up late the night before my appointment practicing my cough, but it never came up during the examination. I probably had the doctor who cheated off his lab partner and missed that day of medical school.
Of course, this month’s issue is highlighting the best of the best doctors out there. These are guys and gals who got at least a B on all their science courses and actually know what the word dehydroepiandrosterone means. It’s actually a hormone produced by the adrenal gland that is converted into testosterone and estrogen in the body. Check out the brain on John Gray!
Okay, I totally cheated and looked it up. What did you expect? Hello—Liberal Arts major here!
While it’s a great honor to be publicly recognized as being a top doctor you know there is a downside to it. Now even more people will be approaching these doctors at picnics and cocktail parties saying, “I know you’re not working, but could you look at this pulsing boil on my backside? Does this look normal to you?”
I can’t stand going to the doctor’s office. I’m always worried that the people in there have something contagious and I’m going to catch it by touching the 1997 issue of People Magazine. Hey look, it’s the girl who played Blossom on the cover. Memo to the doctor’s office manager—please update the magazines. Also, enough with the waiting. You are not landing airplanes at LaGuardia and Kennedy–stop stacking us up like sardines out here. Also, what’s with the backless paper thin gown? If I’m having a problem with sinus headaches why does everyone in the hallway need to see my naked rear? And for the prices you are charging can you get some decent coffee? Every time I drink cheap coffee I suffer from Zygomycosis (a dangerous infection caused by a water-borne fungus). Yup, cheated again.
Speaking of cheating—real life doctors must hate all the TV dramas. I mean, nobody seems to be able to keep their scrubs on or their hands to themselves for goodness’ sake. Not to mention that everybody is gorgeous—George Clooney on ER, Patrick “McDreamy” Dempsey on Grey’s Anatomy. I wouldn’t want my doctor spouse going to work at a place where everyone looks like an underwear model. Right now, someone who works at Albany Med is saying, “Trust me sweetie, nobody here looks like Clooney or Dempsey.”
With all due respect to the fine doctors who save lives each and every day, I would be remiss if I didn’t tip my hat to the nurses, lab technicians and other medical professionals who do the lion’s share of the work. Every time I’ve been at the hospital visiting someone, it’s usually a nurse fluffing the pillow, handing out the meds and sharing a smile with the person lying in bed with tubes coming out of them. The hours stink, the pay isn’t enough, and honestly, I don’t know where we would be without all of them helping us at our most vulnerable time.
I’ll leave you today with a true story told by a hospital priest who was making the rounds offering comfort to the severely ill and dying. He stopped by hospital Room 214 and sat quietly at the bedside of a middle–aged woman who looked afraid. As he held her hand he said, “I know this looks bad and I know you are alone and scared, but the journey does not end here. Have faith and don’t be afraid to go to God when he calls you.” The woman shot up in her bed and said, “I’m here to have my tonsils out and you’re telling me I’m dying. Oh God Father, why me?” The priest looked over his shoulder at the door and said, “I’m sorry hon, I thought this was Room 114. I got off the wrong floor. Have a nice day.” She buzzed the nurse’s station and said she wanted to go home STAT.
John Gray is a Fox23 News anchor and contributing writer at the Troy Record. He can be reached at email@example.com