Listen, patients. I don't know how many different times I've had to tell you this, but this is your final warning: I DON'T WANT OR NEED TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR URINE OR YOUR BOWEL MOVEMENTS...or bleeding from either of the places those come out of. Or anything else abnormal. I don't. Period. PERIOD.
And, I certainly don't need you to come busting out of the bathroom right in front of my desk triumphantly proclaiming, "How do YOU spell relief? I just had some in the bathroom, my darling."
That's too much information. And no statement like that should ever end in "my darling." Just so you know.
Plus, three more free bonus tips:
1. If The Doctor wants you to leave a urine sample, please don't walk away halfway through my spiel on how to properly collect it. I don't recite that crap just to hear myself talk.
2. The phsychiatrist that we're sending you to is not called "the psychic". That's something completely different.
3. Old men: you are not 20-years-old, this office is not a bar, and you've no longer got it goin' on. Seriously. Flirting with the girls here in the office makes you look like a perv, not a pimp. And it creeps us out. Then we have to talk about how you are a dirty old man behind your back. Yes, we keep tabs on you. So do yourself a favor and act your age.
2 comments:
We had one of those dirty old men in our office who brought my PT friend a bikini to wear in the pool with him when they did their aquatic therapy. Sick. I suggest that for Christmas, you ask for a really nice laminated sign that talks about your need for no more TMI.
This man asked the nurse to spank him. Nope, not kidding.
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