(Question)
Shortly after five, the hospital called. More precisely, the emergency room phoned to ask if Ray had a bed. Ray pretended to consult his admission log, just as he always did. The nightly hospital call meant one of three things: the chemical dependency floor was full (highly unlikely), the individual in question had fallen under the hospital's "one treatment episode every three months" sanction (also known as the Black List, and only moderately unlikely), or the prospective client had no insurance (in Ray's experience, very likely). The folks at the hospital knew, as did Ray, that federal law prohibited him from turning away individuals requesting detoxification services if he had an open bed. The hospital was generous enough to spring for a cab voucher for the intoxicate. In Ray's experience as well, overnight admissions were less interested in detox than in free food, a free bed and complimentary meds. For his two hour paperwork investment and aggravation, he would receive the benefit of knowing the client slept until noon then slipped out the side door and into another binge. Any bills for service generated for the brief stay would return in a week or so stamped "No Such Address" or simply "Return to Sender". On average, the clients of addictions services managed to muster a raging 25% of them who would ever pay a dime toward their bill. The night shift admission payment percentages were a quarter of that quarter in good years. Thus, the frequent calls from the hospital. They had little better luck in getting good addresses (or even with those, a client who stayed sober long enough to give a shit). No one relished treating the uninsured and uninsurable. It was fiscal suicide. The hospital was perfectly willing to let the local experts in deadbeats handle the workload. Tonight, Ray could tell them no. He liked telling them no, especially when it was the truth. Who checked the admissions log? Pick the correct answer from the following options: - Ray - not enough information - the hospital - a patient
(Answer)
Ray

(Question)
I had the joy, absolute joy, of observing an ER nurse just about lose it and the poor pompous MD (who had left the room) was still clueless. I was in the ER with my dad and my sister. It was late. Dad had taken a tumble, hit his head and because he was on a blood thinner, he had to be checked out at the ER. This ER was in the same hospital we always went to. As we completed the history etc. I noted "stroke effecting speech." They had a complete synopsis of dad's history which I gave them as we checked in. Dad is getting tired and his speech was getting more slurred. My Dad was in work clothes. I was in something pretty casual and my sister was in the same clothes (business attire) that she had put on at 6 a.m. I am sure we looked pretty ragged. In waltzes Dr. Hotshot. He looks around and asks my sister and I who we are. My sister introduced us making sure to introduce me as "Dr. Lea (I think that was the first, last, and only time she called me 'Dr."). He then turns to my dad and asked what happened. Knowing how difficult it is to understand Dad, I start to answer. My bad. The doctor abruptly stops me and says, "I didn't ask you. I want him to tell me." In hindsight, I realize he wanted to hear dad's speech as a part of his assessment. Dad begins. His speech is slow and very very slurred. Dr. Hotshot looks totally befuddled. Dad had gotten out about 3 sentences out when Dr. Hotshot stops him and abruptly asks, "Does he always talk like that?" My sister, without missing a beat, replies, "No, sometimes he speaks French." As I am trying to not swallow my head to keep from laughing, I notice the nurse in the room has buried her mouth in her shoulder. Dr. Hotshot exits. A scan shows no damage. And, for the record, Dad never did learn to speak French. Dr Lee believes that Pick the correct answer from the following options: - The MD is not intelligent - The MD is arrogant. - not enough information - The MD is crazy
(Answer)
The MD is arrogant.

(Question)
I have been the brunt of cruelty from a doctor a number of times but I will relate one that has always stayed with me since I was a child. I was approximately 8 years and it happened to be summer. Baseball was a true love and my brothers and friends played daily. In the summer, all we wore were cut off jeans and nothing else. I had stepped on a rusty nail and it became infected. Time for a Tetanus shot! This was a typical occurrence for us during the summer. There was only one doctor within a one hundred square mile area and his name was Doctor Brandenbury. He was a very unpleasant, elderly man that my brothers and I did not care for since he was just a mean, old bastard. So I am shuffled off to his office and of course after hearing what had a occurred and examining my foot agreed I needed the Tetanus shot. I make a very innocent request as he is about to give me the shot. Since I knew the shot would stiffen my arm and essentially cause pain I would take it in my left arm so my throwing arm would not be affected. I tried to request this from the doctor but he did not wish to hear anything from me. He said "I don't give a fuck what arm you get it in." He grabbed me roughly by the right arm and used the needle like a dart and just slammed it into my arm. I had never had a problem with shots before but that REALLY hurt. I started crying. He instructed my mother "To get me the Hell out of his office." Needless to say my mother never took any of us to see this old, miserable bastard again. She found another doctor that actually treated us like we were human. what happened while the boy was playing baseball? Pick the correct answer from the following options: - he hit a home run - nothing - he stepped on a rusty nail - not enough information
(Answer)
he stepped on a rusty nail