"It's no mystery that it doesn't take much to be a doctor -- I mean, it's not like you need to go through college or anything."
Basically, all you need is some rubber gloves and a knife and pretty soon you, too, can be hacking away at someone's appendix. But some people these days are worried about safety precautions and surgical complications in hospitals. With this in mind, I decided to go undercover as a medical practitioner. I set up my own hospital in conditions as sterile as the standard used cardboard box would allow, assembled my medical team and began my scrutiny of the surgical system. The following is a recount of what happened and should anyone want to test this themselves, it should be followed like this.
Just like this.
When opening a surgical practice, the first thing you need to do is gather materials. Materials can be gathered from all sorts of places, or so Wikipedia has told me -- these places include back alleys, dumpsters, and probably Olive Garden, though the latter is often disputed. Just remember, all equipment needs to be pointy and look dangerous. One problem I came across during my investigation was the subject of needles. Because the forks I collected from Olive Garden do not suffice in
punching holes through injecting liquids into the body, I also added in those bio-hazardous waste bins in doctors offices to my list of equipment repositories. They worked especially well, and some of the needles I found there still had salvageable liquids in them! Some wasteful doctors had just thrown it away without even thinking about its potential uses. It could probably save a dying puppy, or something.
Of course, there's also all those chemicals you need to stab people up with. Those chemicals are often expensive, and, let's face it -- rather scary. So in my experiment, I decided to substitute those substances with water. Most of those liquids in the syringes are clear anyhow, and most people are total hypochondriacs, so we figured this would work for booster shops. And who needs flu shots anyhow?
But the boosters will do nothing if we don't have a staff to institute them.
Or we could just wait for the shots to inject themselves. They do that now, right?
Selecting staff is often an arduous business, and it was no different for this. There was a long list of contenders (about two more than can fit in that box with a patient or some dead bodies), so I and a board of selectors (read: me) narrowed the list down to a few decent choices. The following list is based both on credentials, merit, and who looked good wearing that metal bell headband thing. In the spirit of Cracked, it will be a list.
Sweeney Todd, Head Surgeon, Pediatric Surgeon --
Todd has worked as a barber and makeshift surgeon for years now. He's good with a pair of scissors, and he can damn well bust open a few spleens with that thing. He has a high mortality rate, but we're willing to overlook that because screw babies anyhow. Also, his wife said she'd bring in some pies.
Dr. Kevorkian, Suicide Consultant --
In order to better understand the psychological depression of some of our patients, we've enlisted Jack Kevorkian as Head Psychologist and Suicide Consultant. He's been in the business for a long time, so we're sure he'll do his job well and efficiently. And entirely unbiased, since he knows what he's dealing with. He has a nice resume and he backs up Todd's high mortality rate -- "dying is not a crime", you know.
Hannibal Lecter, Anesthetist and ER Surgeon --
Lecter has a very reputable resume, having been in his business since 1981 -- The Year of the Dragon, if we remember correctly. Though he didn't have many sources, he was a brilliant psychiatrist. He has eleven fingers, so not only is he +1 better than you at dexterity, he can also flick you off thrice AT THE SAME TIME. Lecter says he's very good with wound care, and those red stains in his teeth don't bother us at all. Plus, who wouldn't trust this face?
Don't. Trust. It.
Wikipedia, Head of Diagnostics --
This was a close call -- we almost chose WebMD for this one. But in the end, we decided that Wikipedia was a more reliable persona to choose for diagnostics. He seems clean-cut and easy to work with, plus he's so worldly.
Oh, and that Edward Scissorhands kid is our secretary. We thought he'd be fitting there. And that kid's a charmer!
Even on ice, he's still horrifying. And limber.
The following is the story of what happened when our very first operation together happened. Our patient is the homeless man we through off the ledge in the previous minute-clinic here. (Minute because of the size, get it?) In our defense, clearing your workspace is necessary when performing operations. Anyhow, we couldn't move the box away from the ledge with him in it.
I put on my (recycled) gloves, and threw myself into the room, preparing the theme music as I flew through the air.
"Wikipedia, assess the situation!" I said, landing in a neat pile on the floor.
Wiki paused for a second, then shouted, "A fracture is the (local) separation of an object or material into two, or more, pieces under the action of stress.The word fracture is often applied to bones of living creatures, or to crystals or crystalline materials, such as gemstones or metal. Sometimes, in crystalline materials, individual crystals fracture without the body actually separating into two or more pieces. Depending on the substance which is fractured, a fracture reduces strength (most substances) or inhibits transmission of light (optical crystals). A detailed understanding of how fracture occurs in materials may be assisted by the study of fracture mechanics."
Nimbly dodging the spew of irrelevant nonsense, I quickly latched on to the true meaning -- the patient's crystals must be broken! We would have to operate quickly to solve this. I ran over to Sweeney, who was standing over the patient looking like a cross between Michael Jackson and a certain, less credible McDoctor with his McGray-tinged hair.
"Sweeney, the scissors!" I yelled, and he threw them towards me.
He threw them at me, and I dodged them, and also his lack of common sense. The scissors landed in the patient, who, if he was moving before, was now oddly silent. I guess Hannibal got him some anesthesia. Anyhow, the first cut had been made in approximately the right place, so I just snipped away until I found his crystals. They weren't at all what I thought they would be -- who would have known crystals were so dull and white? And .. opaque .. and..
"Dr. Wiki, assess the situation!" I said, and so said I.
"Searching .. hold on .. one minute.. "
"Dr. Wiki, I swear, if you don't get the diagnosis right now, I'll replace you with Dr. WebMD as soon as you can say--"
At that point, Wiki turned on a rainbow wheel. We've been waiting on him ever since.
Thank you, Apple.
With no Head of Diagnostics, I assessed the situation myself. He looked to be losing a lot of blood, so I quickly diagnosed it as severe blood loss on top of that fracture, and ordered some stitches and a blood transfusion. Not in that order. The needles we had were insufficient at applying the blood, so we got a bucket, and, from a .. donor, we inserted the blood. We then cracked the crystal back into place. Lecter, while acting rather like a vampire, stitched the patient up good. We waited a few hours, and then, seeing as we needed to get on to our next few patients, Kevorkian kind of just assisted (read: rolled) him out the door.
He fell of the ledge again.
The conclusion of our little experiment here is that we shouldn't EVER trust Wikipedia to do a WebMD's job.
That's pretty much it.
.. We're still waiting on him.
Written by Alex Danieli and the lovely Lauren Plant.