Doctor Grumpy in the House

This headline is on the cover of this week's Neurology Today:

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Tinnitus is subjective, and I'm not sure I understand the article's explanation for measuring this. How do you know if a rat hears a ringing in his ears? How do you ask the rat if the ringing does (or doesn't) stop? How do you know if the ringing bothers the rat? How do you know this, Sam I am?

But, then again, I'm not a researcher. Not in a lab, or with a hat, or on a cab, or with a rat.

Normally I don't link to the Onion. I like their stuff, but figure they get enough readers without me. Besides, it's not like they even know I exist.

But, from both a medical and human viewpoint, this article is too damn funny not to share.

Actually, it sounds like one of my patients.

"It looked awful! I had bruising around all of my eyes and noses!"

"Hi! I need to make an appointment to see Dr. Grumpy! My brain is constantly sizzling and the government put a tattoo on my forehead to make people think I'm crazy and the FBI keeps breaking into my house every night to rearrange my shoes and poison me! I need the doctor's help so I can go to the news and tell them this! People need to know that government agents are secretly spraying acid into their ears to eat their brains away and that it will make everything smell like bacon!"

If you need a ride home desperately enough to steal (and operate) someone else's car, YOU SHOULD not take one that stands out in a crowd.

Like this guy.

Thank you, Carol!

It's all Cooper's fault.

Last night we had a lot of rain, which he hates. So he was up pacing and growling, jumping on and off our bed, and randomly barking (he hasn't figured out yet that barking at rain won't make it leave).

At some point Mrs. Grumpy decided to take him to the other end of the house to try and calm him down, and fell asleep on the couch.

As the night progressed the storm scared Craig, who came to our room. When he discovered my wife was missing, he climbed into the bed and fell asleep.

Then Marie woke up. When she realized her partner-in-crime was missing, she came to our room. She found him, and got into bed, too.

Frank got up to pee, and noticed the twins were gone. So he came to our room, discovered the situation, and jumped into the bed.

After the storm ended Cooper and Snowball came down to the bedroom, and jumped up with the rest of us.

I woke up early this morning with my left arm and leg, and most of my body, hanging off the bed because I'd been pushed off. And I was freezing cold because the kids had taken all the covers.

Mrs. Grumpy got a good night's sleep on the couch.

Stupid dog.

Ok, it's time for more of your submissions showing the insane overuse of the word "artisan" and it's derivatives these days.

Before we get started, I should note that many of you have recently sent in excerpts from the J. Crew catalog using the words to describe their clothing, fabrics, and (for all I know) toilet paper. There were just too many of those to choose from.


First, I'd like to thank Doris for submitting a special banner for me to use here.




And we're off!

For those of you who find your nose is easily offended by generic pseudo-pheromone smells, there's now artisan cologne:



Need something artisanal for your artisanal home? Maybe you should visit:







If you can't afford the premium charged by companies for using the word "artisan" (usually it seems to be a 50% or more mark-up) you can get discounted artisanal products with on-line coupons.






After the cheese, maybe you'd like some chocolate.





If you've had too much cheese and chocolate, you might need to see a dentist.






And while YOU may get to enjoy artisanal products, let's not forget about your best friend.




At this point, I think it's time for all this artisanal overuse to STOP!

When I ask if you're taking Coumadin, PLEASE remember that you are BEFORE I start putting needles in you for an EMG, not suddenly saying "Oh, wait, I think I am taking Coumadin" as blood goes flying everywhere.

Thank you.

Thank you for the letter I received yesterday, notifying me that the Christmas cookie trays we bought last year, for office and family parties, have been recalled due to "undeclared food coloring ingredients".


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From what I can see on your website, it was a nationwide recall. So I'm sharing the letter with my readers, in case they still have some Christmas cookies lying around.

Your letter requests that I return the cookies to my local Sam's Club. After carefully questioning family members and employees as to their current whereabouts, I am unable to bring them back to your store at this time.

If it's absolutely critical that you get the cookies back, I suggest you contact the Grumpyville Sewage Treatment Facility. I think they give tours on Mondays.

Yours truly,

Ibee Grumpy, M.D.

P.S. Mary says you can have them (and some PB M&M's) back by doing liposuction on me.

The following message was left on Mary's voicemail at 10:08 this morning:

"Hi, this is Karen Java. I have a 10:00 appointment with Dr. Grumpy, and I'm running late. Traffic is horrible (whispered: grande, please, with whip cream), and I think there's an accident or something (whispered: and a blueberry scone, too). Anyway, it's bumper-to-bumper, so I may be a few minutes late (whispered: Thank you, I have a gift card, here). Sorry. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Dr. Grumpy: "Ma'am, have you noticed if you wear one shoe down more than the other?"

Mrs. Marcos: "I'm not sure."

Mr. Marcos: "You can't tell. Doc, you should see her closet. I don't think she's ever worn the same pair twice."

I'd like to thank Effenormous Pharmacy for this fax. They sent it yesterday, warning me that a drug I'd prescribed (Drug A) had a potential interaction with one from the patient's internist, Dr. Tutone (Drug B).

Except for the names and phone numbers, I haven't changed anything.

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And thank you Dr. Pissy for volunteering his handwriting!

Guy walks in, stands at front desk.

Mary: "Are you here to see Dr. Pissy or Dr. Grumpy?"

Mr. Guy: "Sure! Which one works here?"

Mary: "They both do."

Mr. Guy: "Yeah, I'll see that one."

Mrs. Znot: "I brought my head MRI films. It was done yesterday, and I want you to show me something."

(hands me a DVD)

Dr. Grumpy: (loading disk in computer): "Sure. What are you wondering about?"

Mrs. Znot (pulls out plastic baggie with disgusting little green slimy object): "This."

Dr. Grumpy: "Uh... That's..."

Mrs. Znot: "It's a huge booger..."

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes, I can see that."

Mrs. Znot: "... and I blew it out of my nose about an hour after the MRI, so can you show it to me in the pictures?"