Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Too much information
One of the problems with being a doctor is, folks think they can tell (or show) you anything. Anything.
I’ve lost count of the number of patients who have bared their breasts, dropped their pants, or lifted their shirts to show me one thing or another. I’m very polite when this happens. I never say, “What part of ear, nose, and throat don’t you understand?” Like the hero of my romance novel, I was once the recipient of a snide, “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?” and I don’t care to hear that phrase in that tone of voice ever again.
Nevertheless, a few patients have crossed the line. The worst was a woman with a medical condition characterized by freckled lips. She thought her entire digestive tract was full of freckles, and that her poops were freckled, too. And she had the photo album to prove it.
One patient would bring in her used Kleenexes to show to her doctors. Now, 999,999 times out of a million, such displays are TMI. C’mon, it’s not that tough, it’s like the opposite of writing fiction: you can tell me your phlegm is thick and green, you don’t have to show me. “I thought you might be able to use the sample!” they say.
Um, no.
But in this one time in a million, those used Kleenexes helped me make a diagnosis (maybe). She told her doctors she was coughing up crystals, and none would believe her, even if she showed them the proof. Miracle of miracles, I remembered something from med school: Charcot-Leyden crystals, a sign of asthma. To this day, I don’t know if those really were Charcot-Leyden crystals, but I sent her to a pulmonologist, and IIRC, he figured it out.
I’m not the pointiest fork in the drawer, but I do know it’s abnormal to cough up pretty crystals. (On the other hand, I must be a relatively pointy fork, since I was the first doc to take her seriously and send her to a specialist.)
What bugs me the most is when friends or family members tell me stuff that’s (A) way too personal, and (B) way too far from my specialty for me to offer any sort of intelligent commentary. (Sis, don’t worry. I don’t think you’ve ever done this.) I’m not a gynecologist, nor am I a proctologist.
And then there’s the personal stuff. I’ve told you this before — the bizarre habit women have of opening up to me. I suspect it’s the Little Bald Hobbit phenomenon. I’m like a human teddy bear. You can tell anything to your teddy bear, right? It’s not like anyone ever made a teddy bear horror movie —
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Brownie points to anyone who can suggest an EASY Thirteen for tomorrow.
D.
In a quaternary math system, 13 would be equal to seven. So, you could do a Thursday 13 with just seven entries. That ought to make it easier.
I think it’s a mix between secular priest, the stranger on a plane, and the non-threatening hobbitt. People trust doctors and often are awe of them, hence secular priest. They don’t see you often enough (and may in the eternal optimism of people figure that they will be cured after one visit, so won’t see you again) that they are embarassed sharing details. And you are such a cuddly hobbit!
P.S. My lawyer friends tell me that free advice is usually worth what you pay for it (but then lawyers are perhaps more monetarily oriented).
dan: good point. But I still need seven somethings.
Kira: why, thank you, my dear! And not all of my advice is free 😉
off topic: sorry it took so long, walnut, but baw is now on skippy’s blogroll.
Gracias, skippy!
‘do not flush the toilet with your foot” They have got to be kidding. I’m only flushing their toilet with my foot. YUK! That is strictly hands off and then I’m going home and burning my shoe.
Well, since you already mentioned it–how about 13 things people have asked you about/shown you that were TMI? Or have you already done that?
Oh, you wanted easy. Whenever I try to go for easy, it takes me three times as long as something I thought would be hard, so I’m a bad judge. But how about 13 things in your fridge or pantry? Please show us that you’ve got junk food like the rest of us… 🙂
hows about 13 things you’d flush from your memory if you could. I’m thinking earworm songs not nightmarish tragedies.
13 people you admire
13 people you despise.
13 people you wouldn’t mind meeting.
13 people you’d cross the street to avoid.
13 stupid things you’ve done.
There, quantity not quality.
13 yummy things to put on pasta!
I say this because I’m trying to reduce my pantry supplies so that I have less kitchen to move. And because pasta is easy (and quick) and I can cook it in the chaos that I’m currently living with. 🙂
13 Random Items — you don’t even need an overarching theme.
New 13?? I’m still waiting for chapter four of Idiots Guide To Getting Girls!
13 ways to repel women.
13 things to do with an egg.
13 vacation places you want to see.
13 writing things that bug you.
13 things that make you warm and happy inside.
otherwise, I don’t know.
Lyvvie: thanks for the reminder on Idiot’s Guide.
I’m leaning towards 13 things to put on pasta. Not sure I can think of 13 different things, but it would be an interesting challenge. Hey, wait — this was supposed to be EASY.
Dammit.
I don’t think I have either, and eeewwwwwwww to the freckled digestive tract.
Geeze, some people have no shame…I feel embarrassed just showing the right thing to the right doctor.
It’s not a matter of having no shame. It IS a matter of being nuts.
Umm … let me get this straight. You object to women baring their breasts for you?
Well, there goes the surprise I had planned for tomorrow night’s chat.
Umm . . . if you saw the barers, you’d understand.
As for you, my dear, you go right ahead and surprise me. I won’t object. Dean might, but I won’t.
Hey, I take her to Wreck Beach, where hundreds of people see all of her. In the flesh.
It’s your hobbit charm. You are the hottest hobbit I know.
And I believe, from what my dermatologist has told me, that you can have freckles in the GI tract. But not in the poop.
I am one of those who are gifted with many moles. Remember a long time ago, I blogged my stripper name would be Polka Dots? Heh. In fact, I just remembered, in the middle of labor right before the epidural the anesthesiologist lectured me about getting my moles checked.
My dermatologist always admonishes me to have the OB/GYN check my cervix for moles. Like what is the OB/GYN going to do about it?
And my eyes, she always wants the eye doc to look for moles on my retina? Is that even possible? I may have to google that.
M