So many negative emotions roll through your heart and brain when you realize it’s time to go to the doctor that it’s a wonder any of us are healthy at all. Pre-visit anxiety is enough to start you down the path to having a coronary, or an aneurysm. Which, of course, would cause you to need medical help.
The best way to battle this anxiety is to put on the white shirt yourself. No, you don’t need any sort of degree. Why bother sitting through endless hours of college just so you can put on a white smock? Unnecessary.
Here’s all you need to practice the science of medicine:
If someone has an issue you don’t want to deal with, claim you specialize in something different. For instance, say the patient has a bad case of foot fungus. All you have to do is claim you’re an ear, nose, and throat doctor.
If someone has an issue which doesn’t frighten you, use a lot of words that sound like Latin. “The problem here is not in the Swifticus Pantskickimus, but in the Arachnosmashoid Complex.” Should the patient understand what you’re saying, they must be a doctor too.
Feigned concern is not only a great way to earn money, it’s also a good excuse to exit any room. “Oh, I want to help. I’ll run and get a splice kit, or a sample kit, or an amputation kit. One of those ought to do it.”
Scrubs on Fridays is really just another way of saying Pajama-day at work.
Lastly, never forget this phrase: “Don’t Google it. That’s my job.”
Do you ever get caught up in a conversation and your thoughts turn to escape? Do you wish you could change channels? Do you wish you could switch venues?
There are talkers and there are talkers. Some are brief to the point of salvation, and others are finding new subjects from every bit of stuff, every bit of fluff, reflected light and dust mite which lands in their view.
The long talkers are amazing, no doubt about it. How do they manage to jump subjects like that? How do they so effortlessly ignore, evade, and deny segues? There is no such option for some long talkers—a transition between subjects to them is like a prehistoric monster beneath a Scottish loch—unknown and unknowable.
For sure don’t let them hear me saying such things, because the long talker probably has a hypothesis for such creatures, or at the very least, a one-liner.
Knowing that a person who can continue talking indefinitely probably will, you need some ideas on how to get yourself out of the vicinity.
Start with yawning. Yawning is contagious. The long talker will likely give in to the contagion and yawn themselves, then you can say, “Oh, you look tired. You better go lie down.” Once you have them convinced, you can make an exit yourself.
If, by some odd chance, they are able to withstand the urge to yawn, you can try the next best thing: fake a coughing attack. Leave immediately to find some water.
But what if the long talker produces a bottled water out of nowhere? You never know how needy they are for attention, or to what lengths they will go to keep their audience. If they give you a fresh bottle of water, ask them to drink with you. Tell the person you have a tradition or a superstition, or something. At least if they drink with you, then they can’t be talking while they drink. If they tried, they might have their own coughing attack. That could be your next way out. While they’re coughing up water they breathed, you can pat them on the back, and while you’re at their back, make your escape since they can’t see you.
Speaking of when they can’t see you: if you have the means to turn the lights out, you could always try that. Of course, if you don’t know your way around the room, you best not try it. You could end up tripping over the same thing as your long talker friend and end up in a shared hospital room with them.
One other thing to do is to talk over them. Some talkers can’t hack it. They’ll try talking louder or faster. They’ll bring in their own tactics to match yours. Yet, for some people who like to talk long, they’ll give up and search for a more receptive audience. When they can’t rely on you to listen, they’ll go find someone who will.
Without seeming callous and careless, you could also try fireworks. Not metaphorical fireworks, but literal ones. Should you happen to have a pocketful of fireworks, light them off, and in the process, scare off your long talker.
You could always bring up taboo subjects, but this tactic can make them think you’re invested in the conversation enough to contribute, plus they might have a one-liner for every subject.
If your long talker gets hypnotized by screens, you could try turning on a television. When they settle in to watch, tell them you’re going to get some snacks, and then accidentally don’t come back.
With patience you can try a different tactic, and that’s the tactic of sticking around to listen. Listen just long enough to figure out the rhythm of the person’s talking. When they get to a point where they should take a breath, act as if you’re taking an extra long breath for them. Exaggerate the action. This will be hilarious for you and for them.
It may be no secret that I love music. We all do, don’t we?
Music keeps us sane during the dull moments of a day. Music propels us through exercise routines. Music gives us a reason to pretend we’re fantastic singers when we’re alone.
It also gives us emotional stimuli. That’s a fancy way of saying we feel something when we hear different styles of music. For some, the emotion of a danceable song is exhilaration. For others, the same dance song will only generate raised spirits, or the beginning of exhilaration.
A new song I heard recently gives people a sense of loss. Sadness for someone they miss, I suppose.
I didn’t get that feeling when I heard it. It just sounded like another Christmas song to me, and this time of year is when you hear a LOT of those. Not that I’m opposed to hearing lots of different, even obscure, Christmas songs (most of what I’ve heard this year are the obscure ones) but I feel like the consumerism machine is turned up to eleven when there’s Christmas music everywhere you go. Regardless of the machine, I have got to tell you about this song I heard. It’s called “Christmas Hits Different.”
And before I give the wrong impression here, I have to say my intention is not to discredit Tobymac. He has a musical soul, and his collaborative work is amazing. For instance, the song “Promised Land” with Sheryl Crow is positively astounding.
The problem I found with “Christmas Hits Different” is there’s a melody in there that struck me as too familiar. I was thinking, “What song is that? I’m sure I’ve heard it before.”
So I started humming it to myself. Some of my friends were saying, “Just hum it to Siri,” or, “Just hum it to Google.”
Yeah, I like to figure things out on my own. I hummed that familiar part for a while until I realized there should be some “…doo doo doo, doo doo doo…” in there after the melody. Then I knew I was on the right track. Soon I realized I should listen to some Duran Duran. I haven’t heard their stuff in years. Why did I remember part of a melody from one of their songs? I’ll have to figure that out later.
So to finish off my detective work, I ran YouTube and brought up two browser pages. On one, I had Tobymac’s “Christmas Hits Different.” On the other, I had Duran Duran, and soon I solved the case. It is, without a doubt, “Hungry Like The Wolf” which carries that particular melody.
The next questions, of course, are: Does Duran Duran know about this? Did Tobymac ask them if he could use a piece of their song? I don’t know yet. And probably you don’t either.
One method I use to boost creativity is to challenge myself to write 42 lines in 42 minutes. There isn’t any sort of limit on subject matter, or how lines are written. Punctuation, grammar, and even style are unnecessary. The only limit is the time to write out these 42 one-liners: one minute each, though definitely even that is malleable since some lines take less time to write and others get instant revision. Often one line encourages another, so if one line ends up being two, that’s perfectly fine.
Here’s how this particular creative exercise might look:
42 jellyfish in 42 minutes—here comes the tide again.
Sometimes I wish I could type 4,000 words a minute. Other times I’m more sensible.
Does anyone want to think any more?
Make goals with plans to accomplish them.
Does everyone blow loose bits of toilet paper away from themselves when sitting on the toilet?
Float like an ex-girlfriend. Sting like a memory of a kiss.
Couldn’t thaw out anything meatier than a half pounder?
What’s your secret identity name?
Nothing can stop you—if your ego is a rhino, your legs are pistons, and your blood is mercury.
Grandmas know when the timing is right for cookies.
How am I going to mow the yard? With a track hoe.
Slightly different time zone, same grouchy attitude.
Purple isn’t a color, it’s a flavor. You know what flavor it is.
If you’re only missing one parent, are you half an orphan?
There are people I know who could play the role of Snake Eyes.
Star Trek or Star Wars? Why not both?
Seventeen has the same number of syllables as forty-two.
If you wash before bed, you keep your bed clean.
If you turn your underwear inside out on the second day, you don’t keep anything clean.
Helicopters don’t have to be noisy, but they’re more fun if they are.
Drifting is a skill tire manufacturers wish more people had.
I spelled it Stare Trek. That’s a new spin on it. The universe is in your eyes.
Selective listening is what many religious people do.
Haters got business with everyone else’s but not their own.
Are you ready for the weekend? Kosher recreation.
What makes a hot dog hot, when most of the time it’s not?
Which is better, forks or knives? What if they’re plastic? Does your answer change?
Motorcycles were like e-bikes long ago: a way to get around without your own power.
Florida gators are not as tough as Alaska gators. It’s proven.
Honda pilots are not the same as Honda Pilots.
I broke one of those once.
Jagermeister, or Jaegermeister? Does it matter?
Drops are just cookies. Unless they’re raindrops.
Freaky lengths of white, which tickle your nose when you least expect it: spider webs.
Baseball greats and baseball legends. On my to-meet list.
Gargantuan tongues must make it hard to speak. Gargling definitely does.
Crass morningstar swingers.
Crass-backwards is more accurate.
38 ways to twist a system out of the norm.
Tales fall short if they’re told without forethought.
The wonderful and insightful Tony Robbins made the observation that people are either auditory in their focus or visual. It’s possible to discover which one someone is by their word choice. Does the person say, “I hear you,” or do they say, “I see what you’re saying”? If you tell them to go left, do they say, “Sounds like you want me to go left,” or is it, “Looks like you want me to go left”?
We learn by watching, or listening, and sometimes both. In school we see what the teacher is writing on the board, but we also hear the lecture.
It’s a funny profundity that we learn while listening, but we don’t learn while talking. It means the person listening is learning from someone who isn’t learning or listening.
Not always, of course. There’s no absolute in this.
Have you ever heard someone tell you something is impossible and then tried to find a way to make that “impossible” thing happen?
If so, you were fighting against an assumption.
Humans do it all the time. Humans make assumptions.
Think of a doctor. Not only a doctor, a scientist. Not only that but a scientist doctor who likes to play football. Now tell me you didn’t assume that this scientist doctor who plays football is a male personage. If you did, you might want to check yourself for other assumptions. What other assumptions do you make regularly?
How did you learn that doctors are exclusively male? Maybe you didn’t learn exclusivity. Maybe you only learned to assume that MOST doctors are male. It’s not true, thank God. Could you imagine how messed up we might be if only men could be doctors?
How about football players? What if the majority of them were male? Again, it’s a good thing females play the sport of kicking a round ball too. (Wink, wink, elbow nudge. Did you think of another kind of “football”? Another assumption?)
And scientists? Well, here’s where humans make even more assumptions. When you think of a scientist, do you also think of someone who has been to university and has a smattering of diplomas displayed on a wall somewhere? Those would be assumptions based on stereotypes.
How do you define a scientist? What are the requirements to be one? The longer you think about it, the more stereotypes you’ll strip away, and the closer you’ll come to the truth.
Is a long, white coat required? No. Specific clothing doesn’t make someone a scientist.
Is college attendance required? No. The world has a long history of people making scientific discoveries, without ever setting body, foot, or even toe inside a college.
Is a scientific discovery a requirement? This question is tricky. Certainly applying oneself to discovery, or in other words, doing the work, is necessary, but is the recognition of something as a scientific discovery required to call someone a scientist? Is work ethic enough? For instance, if Thomas Edison ran all of his experiments on how to make a light bulb except for the final one that worked, would you call him a scientist? What if someone else discovered how to make a light bulb before him, yet he still did the work? Would he have still been considered a scientist? What if fourteen people all tried to discover how to make a light bulb and never accomplished the task? Would they all be considered scientists? Or would none of them?
Here’re more questions: Do you have to use big words to be a scientist? Do you have to be a word nerd? Do you have to be a nerd? Do you have to have a love of books? Do you have to have a love of learning? Do you need to be curious? Is lack of social skills an attribute? Is lack of an assumptive nature an attribute?
If that last one is true, then it sounds like no humans are scientists.
Xenosthesia.com 