Today’s Prognosis on Rude Doctor-In-The-House Restaurant Yellers
March 22nd, 2007
You’ve seen it happen, at least on TV.
A bunch of people are all having a quaint, quiet, cultured dinner at a high-profile restaurant. Wine is being poured, meals are being prepared, couples are looking longingly into each other’s eyes. A four piece mini-orchestra plays Mozart, candles glow throughout the room, and somewhere a woman with roses makes her way through the crowd. And then, out of nowhere, crashing glasses accompany someone shouting “Is there a doctor in the house!?”
Rude. Totally rude.
First and foremost, if I was having dinner with a friend who suddenly needed medical attention, the last thing I would do is yell around a restaurant to see if someone was a doctor. You have to remember, if there is a doctor in the “house” they’ve probably been drinking. They’re probably wasted. Because if you know doctors, you know that they’re on call for like 72 hours at a time and whenever they get an opportunity to drink, they’re gonna get loaded.
So that’s the first problem.
Secondly, if you were in a plane and the pilots all had heart attacks, would you really go running through the cabin looking for a pilot in the house? And then if you found a pilot in the house, and he’d been drinking, would you really want him to take control of the plane while under the influence? I’d rather get on the radio and talk to the nearest control tower and let them talk me through landing the plane instead of having a drunk guy pilot the thing. I mean, I play video games, okay? I have great eye hand coordination.
But I digress.
But let’s just examine the odds here. Your friend suddenly has his appendix burst while eating chicken cordon bleu. You yell throughout the restaurant looking for a doctor in the house. You may find one who is sober, but even if you do, he’s probably a vet or a pediatrician. Not a surgeon. The odds of finding a doctor in the house whose expertise fits the current problem at hand is (according to Vegas) about 10000 to 1.
See?
That’s why today’s prognosis on rude doctor-in-the-house restaurant yellers is not so good. In fact, it’s just plain bad. I’m sort of under the impression that people who like to ask aloud if there’s a doctor in the house really just like hearing their own voice yell at loud decibals. Why else would they continue to yell for a doctor in the house over and over again when they could be calling 9-1-1 instead? In the time it takes to yell for a doctor in the house, find out if they’re sober, if they actually have the experience to do anything and then allow them to use a pen cap to open your friend’s body cavity — you could have called 9-1-1.
Do you hear me?
And while I’m at it, can I just say that this whole giving birth in elevators thing is a bit ego-centric as well? After having gone through an actual birth in the last six months, I can tell you that women who are in labor can totally “hold it in” for an extra 30-60 minutes. That means, if they’re suddenly saying they’re going to have that baby in the elevator, they want to have a baby in an elevator. They probably want to be on the news or something. They could wait until you got rescued, FYI.
They totally could.
So look at this — you came into this post looking for a prognosis on rude doctor-in-the-house restaurant yellers, and you came away with a bonus prognosis on pregnant women who insist they have to have a baby in an elevator, when in reality…they could probably hold that kid in for another 60 minutes.
Thanks for reading.
My favorite part of the “Doctor-in-the-house” Yeller is the part where they try and diagnose the medical condition THEN yell “Is there a doctor in the house?!”
For example, your aunt Marge collapses to the floor and as Marge is still on her way down, your cousin Frank instantly yells out “I think she’s having a stroke! Is there a doctor in the house?!” This person not only likes to hear their own voice, but they like to pretend that they COULD perform the pen surgury if need be. However, to save face and pretend to be courteous they first yell throughout the entire classy restaurant to give all of the drunk surgeons first crack at a MacGyver-like surgery. Deep down they’re praying that a semi-sober surgeon steps forward to diagnose Marge so they can go on yelling without having to back up their false knowledge in strokes. These type of people have got to go…
Comment by Steve KH — March 22, 2007 @ 9:46 am
Steve - You’re so right about that. The yeller always makes their own amateurish diagnosis before looking for a doctor. I find it’s usually a stroke, choking on a piece of food or a blood clot.
Comment by Pauly D — March 22, 2007 @ 10:05 am
While playing the trivia game at Fridays one day I was presented with the information that being inebriated would not significantly affect a doctor’s ability to perform surgery. Now, granted, even with this alleged fact I still would prefer a sober surgeon, in a pinch an intoxicated doc ought to work just fine.
The problem I see though, is what if I called for a doctor and some drunkard who is not a doctor claimed to be one and then proceeded to “operate” on the patient. That would likely not go well.
Comment by James Cooper — March 22, 2007 @ 12:00 pm
This could become extremely lethal if Doctor-in-the-house Yeller was the intoxicated one. The Yeller, with aid from the double scotches, would have enough confidence to diagnose the fallen victim and then not even wait for a response to his doctor-in-the-house cry. The drunken Yeller would have already misdiagnosed the victim with a blood clot and begun surgery with a pen before a real doctor even had time to THINK that the Yeller was rude for interrupting his meal. I’m no longer going to nice restaurants for fear of being opened up by a drunk doctor yeller.
Comment by Steve KH — March 22, 2007 @ 12:11 pm
Funny using the word Prognosis in this post. One nano-second after calling 911, I am yelling (demurely) to the waiter to pack my yummy, expensive meal “to go”. I don’t get out much.
AND Pauly, any human who “wants” to deliver a baby in an elevator (or other public conveyance) is INSANE or utterly ignorant of the disgusting BACTERIA on every surface.
Comment by Wordmaven — March 22, 2007 @ 12:37 pm
yes, it’s true, there are only two kinds of people in the world
Hutu and Tutsi
Which do you prefer?
I’ll be the other
stripes or solids?
You know, if even we can’t find some small place of common ground
than I’m sad for the world….for myself and for you
I am
Comment by celebrapauly's foundation — March 22, 2007 @ 4:03 pm
I can’t imagine wanting to give birth in a filthy elevator. Just think of all the dirty fingers that touched those buttons.
It’s just as bad as someone giving birth in a bathroom at the prom.
Ugh.
Comment by Amy — March 22, 2007 @ 6:23 pm
Amy - Just for your information, I never gave birth to anything in a bathroom at the prom. (Not sure if you were referring to me or not.)
Comment by Pauly D — March 23, 2007 @ 9:30 am
I’ve done this a couple times in a Sizzler, does that still count?
Comment by kartooner — March 24, 2007 @ 7:25 am
While I was in the ER with my dad a couple weeks ago there was quite an interesting (read: derelict and extremely high) man in the corner regaling everyone with his life stories, whether they wanted to hear them or not.
He, apparantly, gave someone the classic bic pen casing in the throat so they can breathe maneuver.
And I wonder, did the ‘patient’ okay that? Would I have okay’ed it? I mean, at that point, I think I might choose slow suffocation. Bleurgh.
Comment by Jen&HerBoat — March 24, 2007 @ 10:29 am