Tag Archives: medicine

QUIZ: Does This Look Infected To You?

1 Dec

I cut my finger making risotto last week. Does the cut look infected? Take this quiz to help me find out!


1. Hey, does this look infected to you?

a. Maybe.
b. Sort of, yeah.
c. I wouldn’t know.
d. Gross, dude.

2. Should I see a doctor?

a. I would see a doctor, yeah.
b. Does it hurt? If it hurts, I would.
c. How long has it been there?
d. Probably, man.

3. It’s disgusting, I know.

a. Sure is.
b. Totally disgusting.
c. Really nasty.
d. Put that away, dude.

4. Want to see it ooze puss?

a. Certainly not.
b. Nope.
c. That’s vile.
d. Sure, bro.

5. Do you know what the symptoms of an infection are?

a. Google it.
b. Check the internet.
c. Look it up on the web.
d. Dude, have you heard of WebMD?

6. Ok. This website says to watch out for an irregular shape. Is my wound irregularly shaped?

a. Hmm, maybe.
b. It’s not regularly shaped, that’s for sure.
c. Is oval a regular shape?
d. I don’t know, man. Ask your mom or something.

7. What about discoloration? Do I have that?

a. It’s yellow. I don’t know if that means anything, but it’s yellow.
b. It looks like a scab. I don’t know what to tell you.
c. You should get a professional to look at it.
d. Dude, stop.

8. I think I’m going to make an appointment with a dermatologist.

a. Smart thinking.
b. Good choice.
c. My cousin’s a dermatologist. He’s normally booked solid for months, but he’ll free up some time for you.
d. Alright, bro.

9. Thanks for all your help!

a. Don’t mention it.
b. You’re welcome.
c. I’ll call my cousin and let him know you’re coming.
d. No problemo.




Three Blind Rats

16 Jul

SCENE: (A bunch of lab rats are seated in a meeting room. An important-looking rat (just go with it) is directing the group and reading off a clipboard. His nametag reads: Mr. Whiskers – Manager)

MR. WHISKERS: Alright, we just got some new jobs that we need to assign. Let’s see, we got a diabetes medication. Anyone feel like testing a diabetes medication?
OTHER RAT (from crowd): Sure, I’ll do it.
MR. WHISKERS: Thanks for showing the initiative. That’ll make a great resume builder. This next one is a toughie. Who’s ready to contract ebola for the next 6 weeks?
(A young rat eagerly raises her  paw from the back row.)
MR. WHISKERS: Candance, we both know you’re not ready for this. This ebola project requires a rat with some experience.
(A salty, old rat raises a leg.)
MR. WHISKERS: Bruce, perfect. Hey, if you’re still alive after this one let me know how it goes. Alright, I’ve got  another really good opportunity here if you’re interested. Anybody want to get injected with a scorching case of herpes?
(Nobody volunteers.)
MR. WHISKERS: Come on, guys. Jerry, didn’t you do the pubic lice study last year? You’re perfect for this.
(Jerry reluctantly and wordlessly consents.)
MR. WHISKERS: Thanks, Jerry. I’ve always seen you as a herpes kind of rat. Let’s see, next we got a new lipstick that needs to be rubbed in somebody’s eyes. Who’s going to step up?
(No rats volunteer.)
MR. WHISKERS: Somebody’s gotta do it, guys. Anybody want to get some brownie points?
(Room remains silent. Mr. Whiskers sighs, exasperated.)
MR. WHISKERS: I’ve been holding my tongue on this one for a while, but the lack of work ethic around here is really starting to chap my ass. Too bad ChapStick already tested their product so I can’t even get some of it for my own heinie.  Let me tell you, if you don’t want this cosmetic job, there are plenty of rabbits, guinea pigs, and monkeys that’ll happily take it instead.
(Room does not appear persuaded.)
MR. WHISKERS (tone more somber): Look, I know all of you wish you could be hanging out as some plucky seven-year-old’s pet, eating yourself to death and passing time until the little sucker comes to pick up your feces. But we can’t all have that. My brother, he really wanted that life. And you know where he is now? Snake food! So suck it up. I’d take this lipstick job if I could, but I’m currently assigned to an uppity little urologist whose “research” consists of neutering me into oblivion. (deep breath) I need one of you guys to pick up the slack on this one. Please.
(One of the rats volunteers.)
MR. WHISKERS (more relaxed): Thank you very much. Lastly, we have your classic maze set-up. Do it right, you get a piece of cheese. Do it wrong, they’re gonna shock the bejeezus out of you. Anybody like to gamble?

Realistic Viagara Ad

19 May

(Middle-aged man with long flowing hair drives a convertible down a country road. His wife is in the passenger seat.)

NARRATOR: You’re at the age where you know what you’re doing.

(Same man fires up a chainsaw.)

NARRATOR: You’ve earned the right to walk around with confidence.

(Man walks down a boardwalk with aforementioned wife.)

NARRATOR: You have the experience to know that being yourself is the only way to live.

(Man is seen performing as a mime on the street.)

NARRATOR: But your body doesn’t work as well as it once did.

(Man pauses during a jog visibly winded.)

NARRATOR: Your belly is starting to make strange noises and you’re too lazy to care.

(Man shrugs whimsically.)

NARRATOR: Your day is now punctuated by hourly naps.

(Man falls asleep at the wheel of the convertible.)

NARRATOR: You’re a man. And men get to make inappropriate comments to waitresses.

(Man nervously enters a Hooters.)

NARRATOR: You’re approaching the age where your racist comments are amusing, not offensive.

(Man crosses the street while approaching a minority.)

NARRATOR: You plan to die sitting in front of your television.

(Man reclines in a La-Z-Boy chair.)

NARRATOR: But just because you’re getting older doesn’t mean your lifestyle has to change.

(Man lays in a hammock wearing nothing but his underwear.)

NARRATOR: Viagara is trusted by men everywhere to maintain the mediocre lives they lived before their mid-life crisis. Ask your doctor if Viagara is right for you. If not, go buy a sportscar.



Royal Planes

4 Sep

(A doctor, a circus clown, a young girl, and a pilot are traveling in a plane. The priest and the rabbi were busy in a joke. A loud alarm begins to blare.)

GIRL (panicked): What’s going on? What is that noise?
CLOWN (frightened): *honk*
DOCTOR (looking into cockpit): The pilot’s down. It looks like he blacked out from Earheart Syndrome.
GIRL: Earheart, like the pilot?
DOCTOR (stern): No, Earheart like his blood has pooled in his ears. We’re gonna have to siphon it all out and pipe it back in down his throat.
GIRL (panicked): What are you waiting for? Do it!
DOCTOR: This procedure is best done in a hospital, but it has to be done. Get me a bag of complimentary peanuts and a seatbelt. I’m going to make a slapdash blood pump.
(two seconds later)
CLOWN (returning with items): *squeeeak* *beeeeeeeeewuuuuup*
DOCTOR: Let’s do this. (begins to extract blood) I’ll have to use mouth suction to move the blood.  (starts pumping it back into the mouth)
GIRL (sarcastic): There’s no need to narrate the procedure, Dr. Oz! (pilot gaining color)
DOCTOR: He’s gonna make it! I did it!
PILOT: W-w-what happened?
GIRL (joyous): You did it, Doctor! We’ll be saved! We’re-we-we- (faints)
DOCTOR: Hey! Hey! Wake up! Does she have any pre-existing conditions? (looking to other passengers)
PILOT (confused): I don’t know, I’m just the pilot.
CLOWN: *squelch* *blooooooop* *juvenile diabetes* *gweeeerg*
DOCTOR: Her blood sugar is spiking faster than normal! We’re gonna have to deliver the shot straight to the pancreas! Pilot! Give me your pen knife!
PILOT (frustrated): Sorry, Doc! TSA took mine before we got on the plane.
DOCTOR: Fine, we’ll have to make an incision with a corkscrew. Get me some alcohol while you’re at the bar.
PILOT (moving toward bar): To dull the pain?
DOCTOR: No, I just haven’t done this many operations in a day since my residency.
(Doctor begins opening hole with corkscrew and injecting insulin. Graphic, bloody imagery is displayed on screen; home viewers collectively groan and go “Eeeeeeeeew. Was that really necessary.” Girl suddenly wakes up, groggy.)
GIRL: Uuuuuh, what happened? It feels like I’ve got a wide diameter open wound brushing against a dirty airplane floor … or something.
DOCTOR: Stay still, you’re gonna be just fine. (Doctor looks up, steely and confident, marinating in the triumphant mood of the moment, the resounding culmination of several decades in medicine. He abruptly comes back to earth as the girl slumps down, bleeding out.)
CLOWN(excited, then scared): *honk honk honk hunk hyunk hyeeunk-ack-eeeeek-ack-ack-eeeeeeuuuuuugg-uuuuhh*
DOCTOR (hunky but exasperated): Sounds like he’s choking on something.
PILOT (excited): I took a CPR class once! I know the Heimlich! (Doctor gives him a droll, patronizing look)
DOCTOR: I think I should perform the Heimlich.
GIRL (nervous): Can we stop speaking German and help this clown?
(Doctor performs Heimlich. A bowling pin flies through the air.)
PILOT (listening to radio): Hey guys, can you sit down now? We’re cleared to take off.


26 Apr

CHARLIE: Good morning! Oh wow, your eyes are so red.

WALTER (calmly): Allergies.

CHARLIE (curious): You sure? They look so puffy. I think they’re oozing.

WALTER: Nope. Just allergies.

CHARLIE (concerned): Do you realize your nose is bleeding profusely?

WALTER: You know, pollen.

CHARLIE: Your hair is falling out! Go to a doctor!

WALTER: I guess the Claritin didn’t work. What’re you gonna do?

CHARLIE: Please, go to a hospital! You’re so jaundiced.

WALTER: It’s just allergies, man! Calm down.

CHARLIE: Oh my God! You’re coughing up blood! I’ll get the nurse!

WALTER: No need. I heard the pollen count is really high this week. (He collapses.)

CHARLIE: You legitimately have ebola. Don’t touch me!

WALTER: Allergies!

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