9 OUT OF 10 DOCTORS

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You want the truth here? 

                                                                     

With such a big chunk of my business career and two of my books having been devoted to consulting with and counseling doctors (well over a thousand of them — from heart transplant surgeons to chiropractors, veterinarians to shrinks), I’m often asked what doctors are really like . . . 

                                                                                       

     You want the truth here, right? 

     Okay, like it is:  I believe that 9 out of 10 doctors are nut cases.  Not only that, but I believe 9 out of 10 doctors would agree!

     Hey, let’s face it, how can you not be whacked out when you spend every waking minute of your life thinking about and tending to other people’s problems . . . even while you’re busy spending the millions of dollars you take home, you’re still preoccupied with healthcare issues. 

     Y’know what I mean?  Like it’s really hard to enjoiy a nice glass of hundred-dollar-a-bottle wine when your beeper keeps paging you because the hospital’s nursing staff is taking turns bitching at you to get you to calm down your exotic poledancer patient who’s trying to gain early admission to the hospital for tomorrow’s scheduled butt wart removal so she can avail herself of “just one of those lil’ ol’ papercupfuls of Oxycontin.”

     They want you to tell the spike-heeled, mink-stolled young lady that threatenening to whip the 80-something year-old ER rent-a-guard with her leather thong won’t work. 

     And it’s yikes so difficult to appreciate your teenage daughter’s trauma over having to wear her old dressage headwear in tomorrow’s horse show because her girlfriend broke the chinstrap on the new one, and can she at least have fifty dollars for lunch at the stables.

     Oh, and not getting enthusiastic about your wife saving $120 off the $3000 flatscreen tv she bought today for the maid’s quarters could have dire consequences at bedtime, which all by itself may be cause to chug-a-lug the rest of the vintage cabernet.

     Ah, yes, and there’s Mr. Stumblebum’s early percocet prescription renewal request at the pharmacy to think about.  The pharmacist says your Stumblebum patient claims his Saint Bernard swallowed the whole plastic bottleful.  According to the old man’s attorney, chauffeur, and dog trainer who all accompanied him to the CVS drive-in window to testify, feeding the beast a dozen tablespoons of petrolium jelly hasn’t even produced the label, and the man wants another month’s worth. 

     First of all, your license could be on the line, but even before first of all–  there’s Mr. S’s bank to consider since they recently financed your $3 million office building and your $5 million oceanfront estate.  Hmmmmm.  License?  Loans.  License?  Loans . . .  

     Yes indeedy, the challenging side of doctoring we seldom see (even on Grey’s Anatomy and ER).  Yet, important medical decisions must be made here.  Ah, waiter, another bottle please . . . red wine is, after all, good for the heart!   Halalpiar      

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