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Ever notice how doctors are the only ones who can get away with having absolutely no bedside manners? You walk in, and they're examining you like they're searching for lost treasure. "Hmm, interesting. Have you considered becoming a case study?" And the way they talk to you! It's like they've got a secret code. "Your white blood cell count is a little high, but nothing to worry about." Translation: "You might be growing a third arm, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
But the worst is when they use that term, "We need to run some tests." That's doctor-speak for "We have no idea what's wrong with you, but let's drain your bank account to find out.
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You ever notice how medical school is like trying to survive in a zombie apocalypse? You walk in all fresh-faced and excited, ready to conquer the world, and then you meet your first anatomy class. Suddenly, it's like, "Hey, here's a cadaver. Good luck!" I remember the first time I had to dissect something. I thought, "This is it, the moment I become a real-life Dr. Frankenstein." But then I realized Dr. Frankenstein never had to memorize a thousand Latin names for body parts. I mean, who comes up with these names? "Oh, you have a problem with your phalanges?" Just say fingers, man!
And the exams! It's like they're designed by sadists. I'm convinced they put questions on there just to mess with us. "If a train leaves Chicago at 8 am and travels east at 60 miles per hour, how many patients will it run over before reaching New York?" That's not medicine; that's a horror story!
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Can we talk about doctors' handwriting for a moment? It's like they take a special class in med school called "How to Write Like a Serial Killer 101." I once got a prescription that looked like ancient hieroglyphics. I took it to the pharmacist, and she said, "Congratulations, you're now the proud owner of either antibiotics or a curse. Good luck figuring it out!" I mean, I get it. They're busy saving lives, not perfecting their penmanship. But I have to wonder if there's a secret society of doctors who communicate through handwritten notes. "Dear Dr. Smith, I hope this letter finds you in good health. Please decipher the attached prescription and join us at the next Illuminati meeting.
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You know you're in trouble when your doctor starts consulting Dr. Google during your appointment. I went to my GP the other day, and he's there typing away on his computer. I'm thinking, "Great, he's updating my prescription or something." Turns out he was Googling my symptoms! I wanted to say, "Doc, I could have done that at home. I came here for the premium version!" And don't get me started on medical advice from the internet. I looked up a sore throat once, and the internet said it could be anything from a mild cold to impending alien abduction. I'm just sitting there, imagining little green men examining my tonsils.
But seriously, doctors spend years in medical school, and we're out here trusting a search engine? I don't want my surgeon asking Siri, "How do I remove an appendix again?
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