Catch My Products

Catch My Products
Click on the image to visit Catch My Products.

My humorous thoughts about life.

"My Humorous Thoughts About Life" Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor- Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor -Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor
Showing posts with label doctors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctors. Show all posts

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Theme Thursday: What's Cooking? NADA

How ironic to be given a prompt asking, "What's cooking?," the day after my twenty-six hour fast. Yesterday, Yom Kippur––The Day of Atonement, meant a full sundown to past-down-again of reflecting, praying, and empty bellies. 

Each year, I'm amazed to see how easy fasting is for me. In fact, I was so involved with getting my house ready for the break fast, that I failed to watch the clock and went five minutes past supper time! I confess, I did a little evening cooking and baking, but no tasting. If I can go a full day without food or drink, why can't I say, "No" to that second helping or fattening dish? Our minds truly contain the potential to control that thing called our body if we're serious enough to do so.

Last night, a story circulated from one of the Orthodox synagogues in town. A teenage girl fell ill due to lack of food and passed out during the afternoon service. Someone made the mistake of yelling, "Is there a doctor in the house?" 

Practically the entire shul rushed to her aid, with the exception of a couple dozen lawyers pondering, Who pushed her? or Is there a loose tile below her feet that would make a good suit? And of course the temple contained those mentally challenged folks who became accountants. Cool your jets––I'M KIDDING! But in all honesty, we are quite an educated group of people.

The girl was fine. Her ego contained a few bumps and bruises, but no more than those I acquire daily.

If I have offended anyone this year–like accountants, please accept my humble apologies, but also realize I attended Kol Nidre services. This is a most important time when we admit to G-d that we'll probably sin all over again because after all, that's what humans do.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

#AtoZ : Shots

Last week, a fifth grader headed into class late. I asked him where he'd been, to which he said, "I got eleven-year-old shots."

I said, "Why'd you get such old shots?"

He said, "Huh?"

"Why'd they give you eleven-year-old shots? Why didn't they give you fresh medicine? Don't the drugs expire after eleven years?"

He caught on and had a good laugh, so I asked him if he cried when he got his old shots? He laughed again. Boys don't cry over shots, do they? I wish I could have been as brave when I was a child.

As a youngster–four, five, or maybe sixteen–I don't remember, the doctor told me I was going to get a shot. Naturally, I did what any chicken would do, I took off running out the door in my underwear. I had a string of nurses and various other folks chasing me through the halls. Finally, they caught me. Yes, kiddies, there's no escaping the shot once the doctor orders it.

Also, as a child, I once told the doctor he was nasty. What did he expect? The man asked me to take off my clothes. But that has nothing to do with those shots that were never worth the sucker.

When it comes to shots, there's only one kind I like.
White Russian: shot vodka, shot kahlua, and milk