I was that superhero at work. I was lucky to work M-F during the non holiday season. It took me all of Monday and half of Tuesday to clean up from the weekend. There were more re shop carts in the back, than in the lobby. Then it would start all over again. What we do for the 10 percent employee discount. Stay safe and warm.
Years ago, I had to have regular blood draws to makes sure a medication I was on wasn't destroying my liver. I would arrive at the lab at eight in the morning and the doctor would see me two-three hours later. My appointments with Dr. Memory Lapse, as I called him, went like this. He would not find the results of my blood draw in the chart, so he would call the lab. They told him that those results wouldn't be ready until tomorrow, because those screenings were done by the night shift. Then he said I will have to come back next week. In the meantime, was the medication helping? Not really, I said. That's great, the doctor replied. See you in a week. After the third time this happened, I did something that the kids today call "self advocating," but in the old school days of my youth was called "being sick and tired of this effing bullsh*t." I suggested that my blood be drawn the day before I saw the doctor. He agreed, but I wondered if retaliatory proctology exams were a thing that doctors order when a patient hurts their feelings. (I had just seen the Lethal Weapon film in which Joe Pesci was shot and Mel Gibson added a proctology exam to his chart. Maybe revenge proctology only works if you are Mel Gibson.) When the medication was first prescribed, the doctor told me it would make me to drowsy to drive or operate machinery. I told him, I guess commuting to my job at the cabinet shop is out. Oh, you work in a cabinet shop! What do you do there? Operate machinery. Operate machinery, you fudging idiot. After nearly cutting my thumb off on a chop saw, I stopped taking those pills and never saw that doctor again. My liver emerged mostly unscathed.
I literally laughed out loud reading this. I have to use the word literally, because some people use lol in place of a period to end a sentence.
I think you’ve perfectly described going to the doctor. Dr. Memory Lapse (great name) helps us all. I’m glad you have all of your fingers and a functioning liver.
Oh gads! I have been Dr. Memory Lapse - not quite the way that Hobbes described - but having a patient come back for follow up & then having no idea why I wanted them to return! Did indeed figure it out after looking through my chart notes & literally (ha!) having to read my own mind.
If you don't like the idea of liver trying cooking it slowly in milk, at a simmer. Melt in the mouth if you do it right. (If you don't you end up with cream of liver soup.)
Personally I like it coated in flour, salt and pepper, and pan fried.
My mother loved liver! It was one of the few things she could cook well; tender, not shoe leather. I hated it, but ate it because I liked going to bed not feeling hungry. Then she learned that liver is chock full of cholesterol, and that her aunt who died of a heart attack in her 50s ate liver at least twice a week. She rarely made it after that. I was good with this turn of events!
When I was growing up (long ago and far away in TX) and mom was making fried chicken, my brother and I would each try to get dibs on the liver and gizzards. We’d also get to order kfc as a treat and get a side of chicken fried livers. Yum!
My mother gave up liver when I was very young (high cholesterol is the family curse), so I don't know what it tastes like, and it doesn't seem tasty enough to spike my cholesterol over (unlike a good burger).
I like liver, especially chopped chicken liver on a bagel. Regretfully, I can eat it only once or twice a year because it would aggravate my gout.
Three cheers for Tabnam!
I was that superhero at work. I was lucky to work M-F during the non holiday season. It took me all of Monday and half of Tuesday to clean up from the weekend. There were more re shop carts in the back, than in the lobby. Then it would start all over again. What we do for the 10 percent employee discount. Stay safe and warm.
Years ago, I had to have regular blood draws to makes sure a medication I was on wasn't destroying my liver. I would arrive at the lab at eight in the morning and the doctor would see me two-three hours later. My appointments with Dr. Memory Lapse, as I called him, went like this. He would not find the results of my blood draw in the chart, so he would call the lab. They told him that those results wouldn't be ready until tomorrow, because those screenings were done by the night shift. Then he said I will have to come back next week. In the meantime, was the medication helping? Not really, I said. That's great, the doctor replied. See you in a week. After the third time this happened, I did something that the kids today call "self advocating," but in the old school days of my youth was called "being sick and tired of this effing bullsh*t." I suggested that my blood be drawn the day before I saw the doctor. He agreed, but I wondered if retaliatory proctology exams were a thing that doctors order when a patient hurts their feelings. (I had just seen the Lethal Weapon film in which Joe Pesci was shot and Mel Gibson added a proctology exam to his chart. Maybe revenge proctology only works if you are Mel Gibson.) When the medication was first prescribed, the doctor told me it would make me to drowsy to drive or operate machinery. I told him, I guess commuting to my job at the cabinet shop is out. Oh, you work in a cabinet shop! What do you do there? Operate machinery. Operate machinery, you fudging idiot. After nearly cutting my thumb off on a chop saw, I stopped taking those pills and never saw that doctor again. My liver emerged mostly unscathed.
I literally laughed out loud reading this. I have to use the word literally, because some people use lol in place of a period to end a sentence.
I think you’ve perfectly described going to the doctor. Dr. Memory Lapse (great name) helps us all. I’m glad you have all of your fingers and a functioning liver.
Oh gads! I have been Dr. Memory Lapse - not quite the way that Hobbes described - but having a patient come back for follow up & then having no idea why I wanted them to return! Did indeed figure it out after looking through my chart notes & literally (ha!) having to read my own mind.
Just a layman’s opinion, of course, but it seems like my doctor has a few dozen too many patients. There’s no way I could keep track.
They are all over booked now - I’m retired.
"Some readers finally noticed that Tabby’s hair resembles a cat.". Sigh. Silly me, thinking it's so glaringly obvious.
If you don't like the idea of liver trying cooking it slowly in milk, at a simmer. Melt in the mouth if you do it right. (If you don't you end up with cream of liver soup.)
Personally I like it coated in flour, salt and pepper, and pan fried.
My mother loved liver! It was one of the few things she could cook well; tender, not shoe leather. I hated it, but ate it because I liked going to bed not feeling hungry. Then she learned that liver is chock full of cholesterol, and that her aunt who died of a heart attack in her 50s ate liver at least twice a week. She rarely made it after that. I was good with this turn of events!
Just an idea. Highland coos.
I love these comics. You are my Tabman of the world. You remind me that while the world seems to be sane it’s really just weird.
Thank you so much. Very weird, indeed.
With a thick coating of garlic salt I could choke down liver as a kid. It's been 50 years since I've ate it.
I love Tabnam! Seriously love!
I get very little liver in my life!
Love Tabnam!
Fortunately, liver is high in cholesterol, so I have an excuse for not eating it
When I was growing up (long ago and far away in TX) and mom was making fried chicken, my brother and I would each try to get dibs on the liver and gizzards. We’d also get to order kfc as a treat and get a side of chicken fried livers. Yum!
I have sympathy for the Ogle Mobile lady. My kids have worked retail and sales. Sales is so much worse.
My mother gave up liver when I was very young (high cholesterol is the family curse), so I don't know what it tastes like, and it doesn't seem tasty enough to spike my cholesterol over (unlike a good burger).