Jive Talkin'

Good morning! Since we’re having a slight lull right now at the new office, I thought I’d take a little time and write on the ‘ol blog, since so many of you expressed some manner of joy with the post on Tuesday.

I’ve been doing this whole disability thing for about a year now, and there are two things that I routinely see that continue to amaze me (there are really more than two, but these just stick in my mind). No. 1: The amount of people who, while admitting wholeheartedly that they smoke cigarettes, have a mini-stroke if you ask them if they drink alcohol. No. 2: The fact that the homeless shelter seems to give out 1970’s era clothes only to its residents. Let’s talk about number one first.

First, a caveat. If you’re a smoker, I’m sorry if this offends you…but you should quit! It’s dangerous for you, the people around you, and just think, you could be using all that money that you spend on cigarettes to buy things like food, Lortab or clothes that you could donate to the homeless shelter so every resident doesn’t have to walk around looking like an extra in the Made-for-TV-Movie version of Shaft. It simply amazes me that people view imbibing alcohol as such a nasty habit, while they smoke 20 cigarettes a day, and make my office smell like the Marlboro man’s hamper. Just this morning, I had a lady who was applying for disability due to her advanced COPD, and admitted that she still smoked 2 packs a day. When I asked her if she drank alcohol, she scrunched up her face into a puckered wrinkle, and spat, “oh Lord no, that’s disgusting!” I wanted to say, “what you just did with your face was disgusting,” but I don’t think Social Security would take too kindly to that. Now, I know that people argue that “drinking makes you drunk, which is a bad thing to be, while smoking just makes you relax, and actually helps you loose weight.” Granted, weight loss is a good thing, especially when the majority of our population is clinically overweight. That said, there are much better ways to go about shedding some pounds that puffing on an “all natural” mixture of tobacco, tar, glycerin, ammonia, CO2, CO, and a bunch of other capital letters followed by some random numbers. Rant done.

As for the 70’s clothes…well, there’s really not much to say about that, except that I hope that one day bell-bottoms, polyester shirts and patent-leather jackets will be the rage again, because the Salvation Army has a surplus! I’d like to know who keeps donating this stuff, because it seems that every time I see a claimant who is staying at the homeless shelter, they’re wearing something straight out of Saturday Night Fever. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m bashing these people who, obviously, don’t really have the funds to buy anything, let alone clothes, because I’m not. I’m simply amazed at the trend that I keep seeing, and was relaying that fact. That said, if there are any aspiring filmmakers out there who plan on doing a 1970’s action movie, you now know where to get your costumes.

And now for the disability quote of the day:

Me: “So how does your heart murmur keep you from working?”
Angry man: “It was there since birth.”
Me: “…OK, well, does it keep you from performing normal activities?”
Man: “No, but I don’t want to stress my murmur, because I feel that my heart could explode at any time.”
Me: “Did someone tell you that your heart could explode?”
Man: “No, but I saw it on Mortal Kombat once.”
Me: “Ok then, next question.”

From the office of...

Good morning! I'm writing this AM from my new office at my very own Disability Physical consulting firm (actually, my wife owns it, I'm just an employee...take that, gender roles!). My wife and I decided that it would be in our best interest to part ways with the old disability place, and now, 1.5 months later, I'm proud to be sitting at a new desk, in a freshly painted, climate controlled room, with nary a spider in sight. As you can imagine, it's taken quite some gumption and hard work to get this place up and running in such a short time, so you'll have to forgive my writing absence. We started seeing patients yesterday morning, and I must say, it's so different working at your own place. I actually get a little excited coming to work in the morning...but I'm sure that will wear off once the newness passes. Or maybe not, who knows?


Anyway, the patients so far have been pretty normal, with the exception of one individual, whose story I will relay to you presently. Mr. Genericfakename schlumped into the office yesterday morning, smelling of mildew and cat pee, wearing a bright t-shirt with what I think used to be the Brazilian flag emblazed across the front, but had since been dissolved in a miasma of mustard, pickle relish and mud (I hope) stains. He physically fit the bill of the stereotypical computer…guy – obese, frontal balding, tiny, tiny glasses. His chief complaint was "Asthma and computer skills." How those two go together, I don't know...maybe there's a new syndrome I haven't heard of. Anyway, he stated that he "couldn't breath good, and I can't work the computer." After some further questioning, he stated that typing for more than eight hours caused his hands to cramp, and he stated that by the end of the day, he couldn't even press his inhaler because his hands hurt so much. I asked him if he was currently working, and he stated "no, but if you mean working the computer, then yes I work." ....Well...ok. He further went on to say that "I used to be on Amazon or EBAY all day, but now I can't buy anything, and my hands hurt." Well, we proceeded to the physical exam, which aside from some normal asthmatic lung findings, was totally normal. I thanked him for his time, and as he left the room, he asked if I could email him a copy of the exam. I told him no.

I guess the moral of the story is that if you're going to be on the computer all day, you should probably take care of your hands. In this digital age, good ergonomic support is important...especially if you don't want to miss your winning bid on EBAY.

And now for the quote of the day:
Me: "So tell me about your diabetes."

Woman: "All I know is that when I my sugar gets low, I gotta go drink some sweet tea. Then I feel better, until I have to go to the hospital because I feel bad."

Me: "...Alright."

Have a good one,
-DD