A comeback of sorts

Hi again. Well, it's been quite some time since I posted last, and it's really touched me that some of you sent me a message or two saying "when are you going to post again?" I admit, with kids, family and just the day-by-day stress of living, there are a lot of times that I don't want to take the time to write anything, so thank you to those who have given words of encouragement.

Apparently there's been a fulcrum shift at Disability. Whereas the majority of claimants I used to see may have had something wrong with them, but probably could work, my recent claimants have all had horror-stories for lives, and genuinely have needed some help. I'm not sure if I've said it before, but I really try not to talk about the people that really need help - they don't need some Disillusioned Doctor yapping about them on the internet. This is the reason, as you might have guessed, that I haven't posted in a couple of weeks. In addition to that, my hours at the Juvie got decreased due to budget cuts, and therefore I don't have that material to go on, either. Hopefully, however, the run of actual problem patients will end soon, and I'll be able to return to an almost daily recounting of the funny things people say when trying to get money.

A short story for today. I rarely get frustrated at my patients, and ever more rarely do I want to take my stethoscope and perform a FATALITY. Today, however, I met my match. This gentleman was 50 y/o, smelled of cat pee, and had his hair "styled" like some Steven Segal/Chuck Norris love child. As I was filling out paperwork on the previous patient, I happened to overhear him give my secretary a hard time during his eye exam. He then proceeded to enter the exam room, throw an x-ray from (literally) 1986 on the exam table, and say "there's my old film, now when are you going to shot another one so you can tell me what's wrong with me?"
"We don't do that here," I responded. "This is just a history and physical, nothing more."
"Well then what am I doing here?" He yelled. "I thought this was for my x-ray exam."
He then whipped out a crumpled piece of paper (smelling of cat pee, of course), and said "here are all my complaints, what's wrong with me?"
I glanced at the paper. It listed in numerical order the following complaints (with his spelling...I kept the paper).

1.) Right beast pain
2.) Hard to breathe/infinzola/various lung diseasez
3.) Peepee hurts "dysuria"
4.) Lack of imagination/concentration/ <-----(I don't know if he meant to keep that blank...)
5.) It hurts my back
6.) Heat/Cold/Weather intolerence
7.) Don't liek things no more
8.) Toliet paper
I asked him about the last entry, and he responded "oops, must have confused that with my shopping list...but see, it shows I don't have concentration!"

I proceeded to ask him "so what of those complaints keep you from working?" and he, of course, responded "all of them." After trying to get him to narrow it down to one main thing, he started yelling at me, saying "I didn't know I was the doctor today, you're supposed to tell me what's wrong with me and will kill me, because I don't know! All I know is that I can't get a job because I was wrongly accused of a crime I didn't commit [I think that's a double negative...] and now all the Mexicans are taking over America!"
Once again, I tried to get him to narrow his complaint to one main thing that kept him from working, and after much yelling about Mexicans and America said "it's old age. Plain and simple, I'm getting old."
"Sir," I said, "You're 50. That hardly qualifies for old these days." Well, as you might imagine, he didn't like that.
More yelling. "How do you know what I'm going through? You're just a stupid doctor who probably has never worked a day in his life. And you're young, too! What's going to happen when you get too old to work, huh?"
So...I had come to a crossroad. Do I:
A.) Calmly ask him to leave, stating that obviously this exam is not working out.
B.) Try an empathic response such as, "I can see that you're angry at me being young and good looking, and I understand how you would feel upset about your current situation."
C.) Try and move on with the interview, ignoring his comments.
D.) Stethoscope to the groin, with reflex hammer FATALITY.
Sigh...I chose C...although I was tempted to try one of the other options. The fact of the matter is, if I asked this guy to leave, I wouldn't get paid, and I wanted to get something for the minutes of my life he had eaten away. Since I was running out of time, I said "last chance, what's the main thing that keeps you from working...aside from America, felonies and Mexicans?"
"Why, my back, of course."
Of course.
Anyway, the remainder of the exam proceeded without a hitch. As you might have guessed, his back was fine, and he left the office, taking the 1986 x-rays in tow.

And now for the disability quotes of the day:

Me: "So, can you tell me when your anger problems really started?"
Angry dude: "About 8 years ago, when my Grandma died soI had to start paying child support."

Me: "So you say you have problems dealing with people. How so?"
Man: "When they make me mad, I feel like an angry Goblin that just lost his broadsword."

Watch out for beast pain,
-DD