November 2007 Archives
Dr. Apple, MD was a short-lived medical drama that ran for just sixteen episodes between 1989 and 1990. Barely remembered today, the mediocre series was notable for two reasons: firstly, it ran on 24-hour news channel CNN, and secondly, it featured a talking apple that could do operations.
In pretty much every respect, Dr. Apple, MD was like any other medical drama, aside from the fact that it featured a talking apple that could do operations. The show was originally written for a human actor, James Eckhouse, but when he turned out to have a phobia of hospitals, an apple was brought in at the last minute to replace him. The orginal scripts were used with a few minor modifications - sequences involving things that would be difficult for an apple to do, such as driving or horse riding, were cut, and there were more scenes set in baskets.
Dr. Apple, MD fared reasonably well in the ratings and only ended when its star, perhaps inevitably, began to rot. At first, the writers tried to stave off the process but it wasn't long before they ran out of plausible reasons for their lead character to spend most of his time in a fridge. Then they built the process of decay into the storyline - the doctor's wrinkled skin and coat of mould, it transpired, were symptoms of a rare disease caught from one of his patients, a Mexican priest who had married a vampire in Las Vegas by mistake.
The apple disintegrated under the studio lights before the final planned episodes of Dr. Apple, MD could be filmed. Screen tests with Patrick Stewart as a replacement talking apple that could do operations proved unconvincing, and so the series was cancelled.
While the show left little impact on popular culture, the number of apples applying to medical school in the US rose by 0.3% in the early nineties.
Post-it notes are one of my favourite accessories. They're so versatile! Nowadays they come in all sorts of colours - here I've chosen peach and a pale glans - although the classic canary Post-it is a staple of mine. (Not literally! I am allergic to staples.)
I'm not all about Post-its, though. Strips of Sellotape on the clothes or skin can be a subtle way to highlight your best features - I sometimes use them to pick out a brooch or encircle my mouth. Or you can really 'tape out' and wrap yourself up in a big sticky chrysalid! Moving and breathing can be a challenge, but it's worth making the effort for that special party.
Did you know that Tipp-Ex is perfectly safe to use as mascara? Well, I think it is!
But the great thing about Post-its is you can write on them. (With a pen! I use a Sharpie.) I write all sorts of crazy stuff, like 'Set squares aren't square!' or 'What are clothes?' They make people think and/or smile.
I'm making myself a full set of chainmail out of different coloured paper clips. Or I will do when I have saved up for enough paper clips. I have 133 paper clips so far. In two different colours. Phew!
Some people say my sense of style is unusual. I tell them, 'Haven't you heard of stationery chic?' They seldom have, but that's what comes of living so close to the Arctic Circle.
I'm not all about Post-its, though. Strips of Sellotape on the clothes or skin can be a subtle way to highlight your best features - I sometimes use them to pick out a brooch or encircle my mouth. Or you can really 'tape out' and wrap yourself up in a big sticky chrysalid! Moving and breathing can be a challenge, but it's worth making the effort for that special party.
Did you know that Tipp-Ex is perfectly safe to use as mascara? Well, I think it is!
But the great thing about Post-its is you can write on them. (With a pen! I use a Sharpie.) I write all sorts of crazy stuff, like 'Set squares aren't square!' or 'What are clothes?' They make people think and/or smile.
I'm making myself a full set of chainmail out of different coloured paper clips. Or I will do when I have saved up for enough paper clips. I have 133 paper clips so far. In two different colours. Phew!
Some people say my sense of style is unusual. I tell them, 'Haven't you heard of stationery chic?' They seldom have, but that's what comes of living so close to the Arctic Circle.
Oh, hello! You've just caught me serenading some colourful eggs in a hat. O, eggs all colours of the rainbow
From what kind of bird come ye?
I'm not a doctor so I don't know
If you're safe to eat for my tea
I'm guessing the eggs were laid by quite a lazy bird, otherwise it would have built its own nest out of hair, sawdust etc. rather than just using a hat it found on the floor.
But then again, maybe it takes a very clever bird to recognise that a hat is a ready-made nest. It might even have had to turn the hat upside down.
Hm.
Maybe if I sing to the eggs for a little longer, the sweet sounds of my music will entice whatever's inside to hatch out like feathery miracles!
O, eggs all colours of the rainbow
Please set your prisoners free!
Even if they're tasty space crows
I promise not to eat them for my tea
Can you boil water in a hat?
Did you ever wonder what goes on in kitchens? Well:
Best to stay out of kitchens, eh?
Best to stay out of kitchens, eh?
Hello! It's me again, Dr Duncan Chambourcy, with another exclusive extract from Doctors & Doctoring, my standard text book for doctors across the world.
I've just got back from the wounded astronaut ward - God, those guys are heroes - and guess what I saw there? Only the fattest germ ever discovered.
It seems that during the recent construction works (I'm having a jacuzzi installed in my consulting room - I think it'll be very relaxing for me and my patients) a waste pipe from the kitchen got accidentally re-routed into one of the ventilation ducts above Major Skythwaite's bed. Major Skythwaite has a bad case of space 'flu, and it looks like one of the germs he coughed out - probably all mutated from cosmic rays - has been sitting in the duct for days, gorging itself on all the potato peelings from the kitchen. It grew so big that it fell through the ceiling! It's too huge and fat that it can't infect anyone, thankfully, although the Major's nephew, who was visiting at the time, is quite badly concussed.
It looks like the germ might make it into the Guinness Book of Records, so we're all pretty excited!
Still can't work out what that X-ray is. Have I even been holding it the right way up all these years, I wonder? Should I turn it around? Hmmm.
Time for another educational extract from Doctors & Doctoring.
Chapter Nine: Dealing with children
Every doctor's heart sinks when she looks up and sees a child sitting on the treatment stool. Children's bodies, biologically speaking, aren't even finished yet and so it can seem futile to heal, say, a broken lung that's just going to 'slough out' and regrow several times before Christmas anyway. But on the positive side, children will eat up any old pills you've got lying about the place, especially if you serve them in Smarties tubes.
When treating children the first thing to remember is: give them a good sticker. Medicine isn't really designed to work on children (genetically, children are more closely related to sea slugs than to humans), but a good sticker administered after a long and probably pointless bout of treatment seems to do them the world of good.
Most doctors design and print their own stickers - that's what the fifth and sixth years of medical school are for, after all - but here are some suggestions for appropriate sticker slogans in case you get stuck:
I've just got back from the wounded astronaut ward - God, those guys are heroes - and guess what I saw there? Only the fattest germ ever discovered.
It seems that during the recent construction works (I'm having a jacuzzi installed in my consulting room - I think it'll be very relaxing for me and my patients) a waste pipe from the kitchen got accidentally re-routed into one of the ventilation ducts above Major Skythwaite's bed. Major Skythwaite has a bad case of space 'flu, and it looks like one of the germs he coughed out - probably all mutated from cosmic rays - has been sitting in the duct for days, gorging itself on all the potato peelings from the kitchen. It grew so big that it fell through the ceiling! It's too huge and fat that it can't infect anyone, thankfully, although the Major's nephew, who was visiting at the time, is quite badly concussed.
It looks like the germ might make it into the Guinness Book of Records, so we're all pretty excited!
Still can't work out what that X-ray is. Have I even been holding it the right way up all these years, I wonder? Should I turn it around? Hmmm.
Time for another educational extract from Doctors & Doctoring.
Chapter Nine: Dealing with children
Every doctor's heart sinks when she looks up and sees a child sitting on the treatment stool. Children's bodies, biologically speaking, aren't even finished yet and so it can seem futile to heal, say, a broken lung that's just going to 'slough out' and regrow several times before Christmas anyway. But on the positive side, children will eat up any old pills you've got lying about the place, especially if you serve them in Smarties tubes.
When treating children the first thing to remember is: give them a good sticker. Medicine isn't really designed to work on children (genetically, children are more closely related to sea slugs than to humans), but a good sticker administered after a long and probably pointless bout of treatment seems to do them the world of good.
Most doctors design and print their own stickers - that's what the fifth and sixth years of medical school are for, after all - but here are some suggestions for appropriate sticker slogans in case you get stuck:
- The Only Nits You'll Find Are Ghosts!
- When I Can Spell 'Anaesthetic', I Can Have Some
- Alan The Lion Says He Could Eat His Tea Off My Retinas
- Eight Toes Is Enough
- If It's In A Jar, I Can't Play With It
- I Was Brave In The Gamma Helmet
- My New Blood Is Fizzy!
A child takes control of a stethoscope. As a doctor, this is probably the most dangerous situation
you will ever be in. This doctor was lucky, though he never spoke again.
