Medical Humor

I’m not too keen on taking pills.  When my doctor prescribed some medication for high blood pressure, I asked if there were any side-effects.
He said, “Yes, longevity.”

***

I’m pretty sure my body is not a temple.  It’s a haunted house.  It’s slowly falling apart.  It makes strange noises, and it’s inhabited by the spirit of an old guy who’s always mad at something.

My wife says I’m unsophisticated and uncultured so; to prove her wrong, guess where I’m taking her.
Hint: It starts with B, and rhymes with “wallet.”

***

In one of my blog posts, my computer’s Auto-Correct changed ‘Joseph of Arimathea’ into “Joseph of Aroma Therapy!”

***

My daughter volunteered as an assistant monitor for the Great-grandson’s first swimming trip.  When her child’s towel went missing, an irate mother demanded, “What kind of juvenile delinquents are in class with my child?”
The daughter replied, “I’m sure it was taken accidently.  What did it look like?”
“It’s white,” said the parent, “and it says Holiday Inn on it.”

***

Dieter, and his grandfather Peter, were sitting on the side of a mountain in Bavaria.  Grampa Peter said, look down there at our village.  I helped build most of those houses, but do they call me Peter the house- builder?  NO!  Look at the church.  I climbed up and finished the spire, but do they call me Peter the church-builder?  NO!  See the stone wall where the road runs near the river.  I dug out and mortared most of those stones myself.  Do they call me Peter the wall-builder?  NO!  ….but I fuck one pig!!?

***

I just had another colonoscopy.  I asked the doctor to write me a note for my wife, stating that my head wasn’t up there.

***

WebMD is updating its server because of a virus.  Well, they think it was a virus, but it could also be malaria, kidney failure, a heart murmur, gallstones, or even appendicitis.

***

Evanescence

There is nothing which will point out our own mortality, quicker than losing a pet.

Duff, our little white, male Scottish terrier quietly died on the couch, while the wife and I read, following a short bout of, what we thought was a mild case of stomach flu.  It occurred at 3:00 AM, on Saturday, December 2nd – our 56th wedding anniversary.

I always insisted that he was white, but the correct term was ‘brindle.’  He had a two-inch stripe of the faintest golden toffee color down his spine, from neck to tail.  It’s no wonder that he was so sweet.   No longer will our solid, and stolid, little warrior, soldier on.  Dogs cannot, and will not, tell you that they are sick, and how, and how much.

He had thrown up digestive fluid a couple of times, including once that contained grass that he’d eaten, but his stool was regular, and firm.  He wanted out a few times on a stormy night where the temperature hovered at the freezing mark, and precipitation changed from wet to white, and back.

In retrospect, he probably knew the end was coming.  He remained outside far longer than seemed necessary.  Finally, he’d been out in terrible weather for almost an hour when I called him, and got no response.  I went out to look for him, and found him, cold and soaked, lying on a flower-planting urn.

He would, or could, not jump down.  I set him on the ground.  He would not walk.  I carried him to the deck stairs.  He would not climb.  I set him down outside the deck door to open it.  He would not walk in.  I carried him to the couch.  He would not jump up.  I placed him on a soft, warm, Llama-wool blanket, and used a big, warm towel to dry and massage him.  Finally, warm, dry, and apparently comfortable, he lay down and snuggled in.

The wife kept an eye on him.  Later, she asked me, ‘Is he breathing?’, fully expecting me to ruffle him, and answer ‘Yes.”  When I touched him, the answer was, ‘definitely not!’  He never seemed to be in any great physical distress.  We hope that he passed peacefully.

His breathing never seemed labored.  I suspect kidney failure.  He was so apparently healthy and full of energy and play. He and his same-litter sister, Guin, were only 5-1/2 years old.   The wife asked if ‘They’ could do an autopsy, to determine how he died.  Like the distinction between hanged, and hung, humans get autopsies – pets get necropsies.  The answer is – Yes – but like my neurological syndrome, it would cost thousands of dollars to put a name to something that could not have been avoided.

Our own veterinarian is 15 miles away, and is not open on the weekends.  The clinic where he began his career is a mile away, with reduced weekend hours.  The son came home from his midnight shift, and had a teary chance to say his goodbyes.  At 9 AM we called to ask about cremation, and took him in.  As with all our previous pets, we want individual cremation, with his ashes returned in an urn that we chose.

In a week or so, he will return.  I’ll have the daughter fashion a pendant of some sort, and paint his name on it, and we’ll drape it, and his collar and tags around it, and he’ll go at the end of a line on a basement-stair ledge, which shows the history of our pets.

Duff, in his younger days. 😀

Our pets are not dead and gone, as long as we remember, and love, and miss them.  I only hope that the same can be said of me.

Sick Of Fibbing Friday

Pensitivity101 gave us some sickness last week.  I’m returning it here.

  1. What is rubella?
    It’s the “Happy Ending” that lonely guys get, at those special massage parlors.

    2. What is Winter Fever more commonly known as?

The Mother of Spring Fever – not to be confused with The Mothers Of Invention.  A steam train engine is an invention – therefore Necessity is its Mother.

3. What is Scrofula?

It’s another term of endearment that the wife gives me, if I don’t brush my hair immediately upon arising.  People who live in glass houses…. Should buy thick drapes.

4. What is Grippe?

A French guy’s moist handshake.   🙄

5. What is Quinsy?

It was a highly successful TV show about a guy who hung around with dead bodies.  Americans will watch anything!  Where is Magnus Pike when we need him?? Still doing Thomas Dolby videos?   😕

6. What is St Vitus Dance?

It was the 19th century name for what became the 21st century’s rave.

7. What is Dropsy?

It’s a term to describe the result of my age-enhanced essential tremor at the dining table.  When I finish a meal, it looks like I passed the food up through the tablecloth.  😳

8. What is Croup?

It is the shortened, familiar name that Americans have given to the casino employee who rakes away your losings with a window-curtain rod, at a blackjack table.

9. What is Ague?

It’s a spirited discussion about whether or not there should be a letter R in that word.

10. What is Apoplexy?

It is trying to read something through the bottom of a soft-drink bottle.  That’s why very near-sighted people are said to have ‘Coke bottle glasses.’

Flash Fiction #291

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

HAPPY  NEW YEAR!

With the fervent hope that that wish may be better realized than last year’s similar one.

2022 exits as it entered, with many of us still exiled and isolated in our homes.  The streets and shops are empty.  Merchants pray for trade, and only the likes of FedEx and Door-Dash delivery drivers, courting sickness and death, keep the economy limping along.

Things will improve.  Here’s a happy helping of confidence, and an optimistic quote from the Little Engine, who says, “I know we can!  I know we can!”

Let’s make it a great year, fellow Friday Fictioneers.

***

If you’d like to join the fun, go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site, and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100-word story.

Make Book On Humor

Subject: Muslim Bookstore

So, I was walking in the mall and I saw that there was a Muslim Bookstore.

The sign outside led me to wonder just what exactly was in a Muslim bookstore, so I went in.

As I was wandering around taking a look, the clerk gave me the stink eye, but asked if he could help me.

I know I didn’t look like his normal clientele, so I asked, “Do you have a copy of Donald Trump’s Book on his U.S. Immigration policy regarding Muslims and Illegal aliens?”

The clerk said, “Kiss my ass, Get out, and Stay Out!”

I said, “Yes, that’s the one. Do you have it in paperback?”

***

This Ought to Make All Grandpas Feel Warm and Fuzzy

A six-year-old goes to the hospital with her mother to visit her Grandpa. When they get to the hospital, she runs ahead of her mother and bursts into her Grandpa’s room. “Grandpa, Grandpa,” she says excitedly,  “As soon as my mother comes into the room, make a noise like a frog!

“What?” said her Grandpa.

“Make a noise like a frog because my mum said that as soon as you croak, we’re all going to Disney World.”

***

A retired older couple returned to a Mercedes dealership where the salesman has just sold the car they had been interested in to a beautiful, leggy, busty blonde in a mini skirt and a halter top. The old man was visibly upset. He spoke to the salesman sharply, “Young man, I thought you said you would hold that car till we raised the $55,000 asking price. Yet I just overheard you closed the deal for $45,000 to the lovely young lady there. And if I remember right, you had insisted there was no way you could discount this model.”

The salesman took a deep breath, cleared his throat and reached for a large glass of water.

“Well, what can I tell you? She had the cash ready, didn’t need any financing help, and, Sir, just look at her, how could I resist?”, replied the grinning salesman sheepishly.

Just then the young woman approached the senior couple and gave the car keys to the old man.

“There you go,” she said. “I told you I could get that idiot to lower the price. See you later Dad, Happy Father’s day.”

***

Better than a Flu Shot!

Miss Beatrice, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for her sweetness and kindness to all.

One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room.  She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea. As he sat facing her old Hammond organ, the young minister noticed a cut glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water, and in the water floated of all things, a condom!

When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat.  The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist.

“Miss Beatrice”, he said, “I wonder if you would tell me about this?” pointing to the bowl.

“Oh, yes,” she replied, “Isn’t it wonderful? I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease.”

“Do you know I haven’t had the flu all winter?”

Things I Learned While Researching Other Things

I give all credit for the idea of this post to the late journalist Sydney J. Harris, who would occasionally include something he called “Things I Learned While Looking Up Other Things” in his syndicated column.

This is a post about words and phrases. These are my building blocks, so they’re something I’m always interested in.  You understand the sometimes frustrating task of trying to find the correct word or phrase.

Occasionally, I’ll read or type words that I may understand in the context in which I’m seeing or using them, but will suddenly realize that I’m not certain where the words or phrases originated.

In this amazing Computer Age, I can afford a few minutes of distraction to investigate them further.

Right off the bat — As expected, the phrase “right off the bat,” meaning “immediately; at once; without delay” is a sports metaphor that has been traced back to the late 1880s with that usage. I just made the assumption that the sport was baseball—and it probably is—but some suggest that it may have originated with cricket (as baseball did).

Nitpicker — The word nitpicker means someone who finds faults, however small or unimportant, everywhere they look. We all know someone like that. If we don’t, it’s probably us. The word itself is relatively new, from about 1950 or so. It comes from the idea of picking nits (or lice eggs) out of someone’s hair. A nitpicker is as meticulous about finding faults as a literal nitpicker should be at finding each louse egg. Yes, it’s kind of a disgusting word origin, which is why nitpicker has negative connotations.

Top-notch — We know that top-notch means “excellent” or “of the highest quality.” But, what are its origins? It seems that no one really knows. It first appeared suddenly in its current usage in the mid-19th century. It has been suggested that it originated from one of several tossing games imported from Scotland that required a player to throw a weighted object over a horizontal bar. The best score would be when the bar was in the “top notch,” naturally. This sounds reasonable, but it’s really just a guess. Other guesses have it relating to logging, with the best lumberjacks able to cut from the highest notches, or some such thing. Another had something to do with candles and courting, but that’s been mostly debunked. Bottom line: we don’t know.

Since Hector was a pup* — Meaning “for a long time.” I can’t say this is exactly a regional colloquialism, although I heard it the first (and only) time from some guy in South Carolina. He said that it was something his dad always said, and, in the context it was used, the meaning was obvious.  Best guess, according to Internet sources, is that it is referring to the Trojan War hero Hector, since the phrase originated during a time when people were more well-versed in the classics. And that was, indeed, a long time ago.

Hemming and hawing — The phrase means to hesitate to give a definite answer. It dates back to the 1400s and is echoic in nature. A more modern interpretation would be “um-ing and er-ing” probably, with “um” and “er” being common filler sounds in hesitant speech. I always assumed it had something to do with either sewing or sailing. I was mistaken.

Gamut — I used the word “gamut,” knowing that its definition meant the complete range or scope of something. My actual sentence began “our entertainment choices run the gamut from …” But, where did the word “gamut” come from? It turns out that gamut originally meant “lowest note in the medieval musical scale” and it was a contraction of Medieval Latin gamma ut, from gamma, the Greek letter indicating a note below A, plus ut (later called do (as in “do re mi”), the low note on the six-note musical scale. So the word gamut was originally all about music, but later morphed into meaning “the whole musical scale,” or, figuratively, “the entire range or scale” of anything. Its first usage in this manner can be traced to the 1620s.

Honeymoon — The word and concept of the honeymoon owes more than a little to alcohol (as do some weddings: but, I digress—). The medieval tradition of drinking honeyed wine for a full moon cycle after a wedding was supposed to ensure a fruitful union between the new bride and groom. I guess Champagne is a modern-day analogue to honey wine.

Throwback — It means a person or thing that is similar to something of an earlier type or time. It was already in use with more or less the current definition in the mid-19th century. It is a combination of the verb “throw” and the adverb “back.” I can’t find a more pithy origin story for the word, even apocryphal stories that have been debunked. I was sure it would have its origin in the sport of fishing.

Venting your spleen — This particular idiom means “to express your anger.” From medieval times until the 19th century, the spleen—an organ in the body near the stomach—was thought to be the source of the “humors” that caused the emotion of anger. This is a colorful and archaic phrase. I contracted hepatitis as a 12-year-old.  (My mother called it jaundice, because I turned a lovely yellow/orange color from all the excess bile in my system.  I couldn’t keep food or drink down for two weeks, and lost 20 pounds – not a good thing on a skinny, stick-thin kid.)  But, I digress— anyway, my spleen was swollen while I had jaundice. I don’t recall being angry, but I did throw up a lot.

One to grow on — I thought an origin for this idiom would be easy to find, but it remains mostly a mystery.  When you had a birthday, it was a tradition to receive your birthday spanking by your friends or family, with the flat of the hand or with a paddle or belt. One person on-line said the birthday person would be “lightly paddled.” They didn’t live anywhere near me. Anyway, you’d get one swat for each year of your age, and then one extra swat, called the “one to grow on.” It’s like the baker’s dozen of birthday-themed beatings. I still don’t know the origins. Here’s one guess: you say something “grows on” you to mean that you become accustomed to it. Is the birthday punishment tradition meant for you to get used to pain because that’s all adulthood has to offer you in the future? That’s a little bleak, but it will serve as a placeholder until someone can offer me a better explanation.

* * * * *

Things I Learned While Researching Other Things = TILWROT
Remember that!  
As a lover of words, I know I’ll keep collecting these. Plus, I’ll keep posting them, I’m sure.

*Actually…. My Mother used to say, “Since ‘Towser’ was a pup.”  Now I’m off to research ‘Towser.’  Lord knows what I’ll find.

 

’19 A To Z Challenge – Z

AtoZ2019Letter Z

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sun goes down, the tide goes out.
People gather ‘round and they all begin to shout.
Hey, hey, Elmer Fudd
It’s a treat for the elite to know that Archon is no dud.

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Ray Charles – Mississippi Mud

At least I think those are the lyrics. Click above to hear Ray Charles sing it, and check me out. I don’t know whether All the People gathered ‘round and shouted. I know I did! This post is about the letter Z. I have survived the 2019 A To Z Challenge.

Survivor

For the letter U, I claimed that I had a Useless tale of absolutely nothing. For the final letter of the year, I turn it completely around, and give you a Useful tale about nothing. It is interesting, how many terms for nothing, cluster at the end of the alphabet. For the letter Z, I give you

ZERO
ZIP
ZILCH

These are not terms that you want to slip into the weekly production meeting.
What did you accomplish this week, Hodgens??
Zero, Boss. Real zip. Absolutely zilch! I read all the Dilbert cartoons, to keep up with Wally‘s antics.
Well, you can do all that nothing from home, because that’s what we’re going to pay you.

Wally

Be especially careful with that last one. I had a female co-worker who went into paroxysms at the mere sound of it. It was the first time I found out that there are people who get angry, or ill, just hearing or reading certain words – ‘Moist,’ anyone? 😳

Even in the song above, I thought that, to rhyme with the Mississippi Mud title, the real lyrics mentioned “Uncle Judd.” When I researched it, I found that they sang about ‘Uncle Dud’ (Dudley), which is just another word for nothing, nothing useful, nothing productive.

Speaking of duds…. either I missed a letter, or somebody slipped an extra week into the calendar. Two weeks from today is not the first week of April, to begin the challenge anew. I’ll have to get productive and compose an extra, ad lib post. An extra joke post, anyone??

March In A Straight One-Line

Comedy

How many Germans does it take to screw in a lightbulb?….
….One, they’re efficient, but not funny

You’re not completely useless….
….You can always serve as a bad example

I broke my finger last week….
….On the other hand, I’m okay

A Roman Legionnaire walks into a bar, and holds up two fingers….
….and says, “Five beers please”

Someone stole my Microsoft Office, and they’re going to pay….
….You have my Word

I tried to catch fog yesterday….
….Mist

Working in a mirror factory…
….is something I can see myself doing

I registered with an online dating service….
….They matched me up with a recliner and a TV

No-one asks me for my recipes….
….just the antidotes

Prophecy class cancelled….
….due to unforeseen circumstances

Well, to be Frank….
….I’d have to change my name

Our mountains aren’t just funny….
….they’re hill areas

These tee-shirts were tested on animals….
….they didn’t fit

None of my relatives suffer from mental illness….
….they all seem to enjoy it

Stupidity knows no boundaries….
….but it knows a lot of people

If I make you breakfast in bed, a simple “thank you” will do….
….None of this “How did you get in my house?” business.

Just say NO to drugs….
….well, if I’m talking to my drugs, I probably already said YES

What would The Jetsons be called if they were black?….
….The Jetsons, you racist bastard

Just because it’s a bad idea….
….doesn’t mean it won’t be a good time

If life gives you melons….
….you may be dyslexic

I hate Russian dolls….
….They’re so full of themselves (That’s an inside joke.)

***

Happy New Year’s to one and all.  It’s a happy coincidence that we can start the new year off with a laugh or two.  Here’s hoping that we’re still smiling at the end of it.  😀  😆  See you there.

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Ode To Contessa

 

SDC10926

Contessa – my little one – my Missy – my Lady Cat – my gravatar partner – the one who happily, excitedly, ran to greet me each day as I left the bedroom – has died, and I cried like a baby!

It was not unexpected, but it was no less painful. A retired breeder, she was with us just over 5 years.  She was 16 years old, but many Bengals live to be 20.  She was supposed to be the wife’s cat, but she adopted me and kept me in line just like she did the dog.

A couple of years ago, she developed some sneezing, coughing and wheezing. It was feline asthma.  The vet warned that, when we lost her, it would probably be to breathing problems.  Month by month, the coughing grew more common.

About a month ago, she caught a head cold. Nose was stuffed up and runny.  From February last year, to her vet appointment this year, she dropped from 8 pounds, to seven.  Whether because she felt poorly, or just couldn’t smell her soft food, she stopped eating.  By the time we got her to the vet again, she was down to 5 pounds.

SDC10169

He gave us some antibiotic, and some high-calorie food. We got the medicine in, but not the food.  When Bengals stop eating, it’s almost impossible to break the cycle.  They will starve themselves.  She spent a week in the computer room, taking the occasional sip of water.  She finally came out and collapsed on the carpet in front of the bathroom door.  The end seemed inevitable.

As I sat in the living-room, reading, I suddenly realized that she’d dragged herself downstairs and was on the floor at my feet. I like to think that she wanted to be near me at the end.  Minute by minute, her breaths became shallower.  I hoped that she would quietly, painlessly drift off.

I had called the daughter and asked what to do with her when she passed. Daughter said that, as soon as I was sure she was gone, to seal her in a plastic bag and put her in the freezer, until a decision could be made – burial with a marker in the back flower garden, or cremated, and her ashes returned?

I’d had a long, hard day with the wife in the hospital for a knee replacement. I left a plastic bag and a note for the son.  I tried to go to bed at my usual 5:00 A.M., but I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t leave the problem to the unsuspecting son.  Besides, if she wanted to be with me, the least I could do is be there for her at the end.

I put clothes back on and went and sat beside her, occasionally stroking her. I couldn’t read.  I couldn’t think.  I alternated between the chair, and pacing the floor, cursing Fate and the Universe, and crying.  It seemed each breath was a little shallower than the last.  At one point she raised her head to look at me.  I want to believe that she was making sure that I was still with her and was comforted.  Then she sank back down and I thought that had been her last breath.  A couple of minutes later, she shook her ears and moved her head.

Around 6:00 AM, she seemed to spasm. Her front legs didn’t work, but she used her hindquarters to scoot a couple of feet across the floor.  I was afraid that she was in distress.  I rushed upstairs to the computer.  Our vet is 15 miles away, and doesn’t open till eight, but there’s an animal hospital a mile down the road which opens at 7:30.  I could take her there as soon as the son gets home with the car, to have them end any pain.

Around 6:20, she rear-leg drove herself over into a corner, behind a scratching post. Cats want to die alone, with dignity.  She managed to flip herself over onto her chest and tummy.  She lowered her face, her mouth and nose into the carpet, and….

I lay beside her, gently touching and stroking her, and crying my eyes out. When the son got home, we bagged and froze her.  Next week, when the wife can walk, we’ll take her to our vet’s.  The price for a job-lot cremation is $25.  A single-animal cremation, with her ashes returned is $200.  The son says he’ll split the cost.  We’ve done it for the others.  Honor says that we shall do it for her.

I don’t know how such a small, little lady managed to occupy such a large part of our hearts and lives. She was definitely part of our weird family.  Like any human relative or friend, she will be sorely missed, and never forgotten.  I/we thank you, my regal little Countess.  Be at peace!

SDC11016

***

I composed this post later in the morning that it happened, to help myself deal with her passing. Thank you for reading my very personal tale of loss.  I’ll be back soon with something a bit more up-beat.   🙂

Flash Fiction #60

Night sky

PHOTO PROMPT -© Madison Woods

THERE’S NO EXCUSE

It was a dark and stormy night. The clouds looked like God Himself had burned them, like marshmallows over a giant campfire, then stuck one of His fingers through, so that He could see the moon…..

Dear Ms Wisoff

Please forgive Archon for not completing his assignment on time this week. His girlfriend, Erato, abandoned him – again, and he’s been quite depressed.

He’s been in bed for days, with a cheap hooker and expensive blow bad case of flu. If you can excuse this one omission, he promises to have two bright Flash Fictions for next week.

Thanx

Mama Archon

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

#490