I'm a doctor, not a matchmaker
A 22-year-old man presented to the ER, complaining of depression. Two hours ago, he had been at a bar, drinking with his buddies, ogling the ladies. All was well until he asked a woman to dance with him, and she turned him down.
Most men would accept such a minor setback with equanimity, but this rejection threw this fellow into a vortex of despair. Did he get drunk? No. Did he ask someone else to dance? No. Did he seek solace from his friends? No. Did he scan the personal want ads? No. Did he head for the gym to work off his tension? No. Did he peruse his little black book, searching for someone more receptive? No. Instead, he came to the ER, expecting me to provide him with a solution to his libidinous desires.
This pathetically execrable excuse for a man was blasted with both barrels of stinging, yet apropos advice. First, I explained that to come to the ER for such a problem was, basically, idiotic. Consoling the lovelorn was never something I considered to be within the province of emergency medicine. This character was—surprise!—on welfare, and the bill for this “emergency” was footed by you, me, and other U.S. taxpayers. Second, even though I was horrified by the thought of anything that might increase the reproductive success of such a person, I decided to give him some practical advice. I nixed his suggestion that a psychiatrist might be able to help him get a date, explaining that shrinks are not magicians. Noting that he had never worked a day in his life, I said that women generally prefer employed men. He seemed to be mystified by this concept, retorting that he did have income: the government sent him a check every month! How impressive! A job, I explained, generally supplies a valuable sense of self-worth, in addition to providing respectable income. Since there was no reason why this fellow could not work, I felt that his welfare money was morally tainted and incapable of imparting self-esteem. He felt that money is money, no matter where—or from whom—it comes from.
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How to Lose Weight Without Dieting,
Drugs, Herbs, Exercise, or Surgery
by Kevin Pezzi, MD
You can lose weight easily. I did it, and so can you. I'm Kevin Pezzi, MD. When I got out of my residency program, I was so fat that I could not see my feet when I stood up. Although I am now 19 years older, I have a better body than most teenagers. How did I get in such good shape — and stay that way? Probably not in the way you think. My work is primarily sedentary, I eat sweets, and I never starve myself. In fact, I usually eat until I am full, and I typically “pig out” at least once per week. I don't use any drugs or herbs to lose weight. I exercise occasionally, but the workouts are brief and not too strenuous.
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