Sunday, July 26, 2009

Fear and Loathing on the Autopsy Table - The other Dr. Gonzo, her Forensic Follies and Liberation from the Pain of run-of-the-mill Catheters

For every time you "cath" - Liberator. I guess folks that need to pee through a tube constitute at least part of the target demographic for Dr. G. Medical Examiner, though thankfully that's not me just yet.

A Dr. G Sunday afternoon marathon hits the spot after three hours of scrambling around on the tennis court in high humidity with a group of people many years my junior and I'm guessing many gym visits up on me.

Oddly, though, I feel a lot better now than I remember feeling after much shorter Sunday tennis excursions in the late 1980s.

How could that be?

It might have something to do with my lifestyle back then: Wednesday and Thursday evening, most of Friday afternoon and evening, and all of Saturday being generally spent in an alcoholic haze.

I recall thinking back then that with a bit of normal exercise on a Sunday, I'd trick my body into forgetting the pummeling I'd given it the rest of the week. My body wasn't fooled, but that never stopped me from trying. What's that definition of insanity? Trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? Something like that.

Anyway, back to the Morgue!

Man, Good ol' Doc G. is SO enthusiastic about finding some sort of hidden, ruptured vein deep within a supposedly healthy brain or an unknown spray of tumors in the colon of an apparent accident victim. Yek! Fun stuff! I don't see with all that digging around in cadavers that she has any time to investigate crime. I don't remember Jack Klugman doing much poking around on the autopsy slab - he was more apt to be poking around in the holes of your alibi, because every case was criminal in his world.

Hey, there's Vince with his ShamWow! Guess the Dr. G target demo needs a ShamWow or two: changing catheters can be a messy business, I'd imagine. Though Vince doesn't mention "caths" specifically, you can tell he'd readily agree that the ShamWow could handle that situation for you with class and dignity.

Followed by a Cadillac commercial? That seems out of place. Unless it comes with an available in-seat cath tube. That'd be sweet.

Activia - now we're back on track with the shut-in/piss-on-yourself target audience and in fact are entering the wing of this exclusive club that I hang out in. My kingdom for a bowel movement! Thanks, Jamie Lee! You've come a long way from Trading Places and Perfect!

Meanwhile, back out of the Yogurt and into the "standard Y incision" (love the animated graphics). Dr. G is narrowing down the root cause of the corpse in her charge.

Excited delirium resulting from ... Maybe drugs? Oh, oh. She's got those monster rib separators and is digging into the chest cavity. Nothing there. No anatomical smoking gun as to the ultimate cause of death - no trauma. It could be an overdose or cardiac arrhythmia. I'm on the edge of my seat! Oh, darn, more commercials - the toxicology results await!

Another Liberator commercial! Man, I must be keeping company with a lot of defective urinary tracts! Almost makes you wish yours was fucked up too, just so you could enjoy Liberator's fantastic product! I haven't yet seen a 'Depends' commercial here but it's just a matter of time (which reminds me of the one bright spot in an otherwise all-too-typically-unfunny SNL repeat last night: Chewable Pampers).

[Postscript - 6pm, several hours deep into the Dr. G Marathon - I feel I'm ready for the pathologist board exam and whattayaknow: A 'mega-depends' commercial for home delivery of all your incontinent supplies with HDIS. It shows an embarrassed elderly lady wheeling up to the checkout counter, her shopping cart stuffed full of nothing but bladder control products. I'm surprised they didn't pan down to a trail of shit and piss tracking her path through the store, followed by a quick shot of the disgusted patrons, finally landing on a close up of our red-faced protagonist. This could be you! Why chance going out into public! Let us ship this shit to your door! Discovery Health Ad execs didn't let me down.]

Back to Dr. G.

The results are in! Dr. G. says, 'The tox screen will speak to me'. And the tox-screen says ... Cocaine, not O.D. level. The process of elimination answers: 'Cardiac Arrhythmia!' Wow.

Oh, and the Phillies seems to be beating the shit out of the ball again today. Feast or famine with that crew.

If ya wanna know 'bout the bishop and the actress can read it in the Sunday Papers ...

Sunday morning. Hillary's sending Lil' Kim to bed without supper, wheels of fire end on the Champs-Elysees, and I'm catching up with Nati Shalom (check out his post on leadership versus management, adding Tribes to my reading list).

Speaking of Scarlett Johansson - and if we weren't, why not? Also, speaking of Neve Campbell and Mary Louise Parker ... Anyway, concerning Ms. Johansson, I see she's teaming with Robert Downey, Jr. (he of many second acts in life and one of my favorite actors) in Iron Man 2. I wasn't necessarily a fan of the first (not because it wasn't mildly entertaining - it was - just that special effects laden movies aren't my cup of tea) but I'll be queuing up for the sequel for sure. Go ScarJo as Black Widow. Now I just need to arrange to get my holy trinity of babaliciousnous into a movie together: ScarJo, NevBell, and MarLoPar. Calling Harvey Weinstein ...

Anyway, I'm heading to the tennis courts for the first time in the 21st century in a few minutes. It's just like riding a bike, right Lance? The form of yore will kick in with the sense memory. Just have to dig the ol' wooden racket out of the closet, grab some extra fishing line in case I snap a string, climb into the Chuck Talyors and tighty whities and I'm prepped for combat. More to follow, I'm sure ...