What doctors say and what they really mean!

In my experience the medical profession falls into 2 camps; those who have the greatest respect for potential risk and wouldn’t be out of place in the accountancy or legal profession and those who think Bear Grylls could do with toughening up a bit. The trick is to be able to cotton on pretty quickly which one you are dealing with and ratchet up or down their advice accordingly.  It’s worth emphasising though you need to listen very carefully as whilst these excellent people can pull off a practical joke with the best of us, they do come out with some jolly sensible advice from time to time.

I am keeping a running list for my own amusement, but here are a few I have collected so far.

This might hurt a tiny bit

The last patient bit through his tongue

It’s only a quick 10 minute or so procedure

You’ll be lucky to get out of this hospital the same day

You look really well!

Haven’t I done well!

You shouldn’t suffer too many side effects

You’ll be back in here pleading for your life in 3 days!

You’re having a panic attack.  Calm down dear!

The anti sickness injections have reacted with each other. I need to knock you out with a weeks’ dose of valium

You’re a bit poorly

Cancel all engagements for the rest of the year

It’s ‘possible, possible we can reverse this one day’

Don’t sue me

See you on the other side (yes really! on checking out of the hospital)

When I bump into you in the oncologist’s office (which unbeknown to me was on the other side of the ward!)

and a recent edition today from Rebecca:

You have a grossly normal colon (dictionary definition of gross is unattractively large or bloaded, offensive, lacking sensitivity, unrefined, repulsive)

Heaven knows how they described my abnormal one! 

6 thoughts on “What doctors say and what they really mean!

  1. just found this one – hopefully you’ve not heard it?:

    “I’ve been a doctor for 30 years.”

    [I’ve been making the same mistakes for 30 years and nobody else has ever complained.]

  2. Ah well, today having woke from sinus op (significantly minor in scheme of things) I would like to add…

    ‘you may feel a little uncomfortable’

    Hmmm. Pass the tramadol!!

    Sending snogs.

  3. Rachel, Rachel, darling Rachel….you truly lift me up every day. It’s Monday, I’m having what I call ‘a bad one’…I’m knackered, stressed and thoroughly fed up with my shambolic structure of life. Reasonable enough? Sometimes on days like today I indulge myself enough to think so. Then I read your blog and smack myself around the head a few times…! You are right, life’s a bitch and there is ALWAYS someone worse off than you BUT you are a tower, an inspiration to those mere mortals that get depressed about the thought of getting out of bed to deal with their miserable heads, an inspiration to those that get stressed each day about work, an inspiration to those who are so inward looking all they care about is what the PTA might bloody think.

    I will be bold and say, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you but darling know just how special you are and just how much you brighten up my every day.

    When I was in hospital with Bella and her nephrotic – I was in bits quite simply because like you say the verbose spectrum for doctors is hugely variable. I was pregnant at the time with grace and my best friend reminded me yesterday that I actually said ‘I don’t want to be pregnant’ because I’ve never felt such fear for the life of another
    human being. I spent a week in the children’s ward at Epsom and boy did it wake me up a bit, I befriended some of the regular mothers who felt like it was their second home, in there with their little ones with eye cancer and leukaemia and the mums stay there each night making pumpkins and chatting happily…..how to feel like a mere mortal, it shook me to the core with respect and humility for these brave mothers and their even braver children.

    I thought to myself, you guys are what they mean by superheroes …..you my darling are the truest superhero. If you were a character you would be the superbanana fairy and you would roam the world sprinkling a shake up and be happy vibe.

    And to sign off, my favourite doctor quote, to a patient with suicidal thoughts – ‘the waiting list for therapy is 5 months, you aren’t a priority’!!!!

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