Doctors are 1) vital to our continued survival, literally, and 2) terrifying. This is a profession that routinely involves doing things like cutting people open, replacing their innards, and stitching them up like a character in a Tim Burton movie -- and those are the good doctors who help people and practice medicine responsibly.
We are not here to talk about those doctors. Nope, we're here to tell you about the creeps who used the respectability granted to them by their diplomas and white coats (mostly the white coats) to do horrible things, like ...
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We've all experienced a brain fart at work, like when a customer tells you they want to rent Asses Of Pleasure VII and you accidentally give them an unrewound copy of Butts Of Delight VIII (we assume all our readers work at porn stores in the year 1994). In the case of Dr. Peter Choy of Miami, the brain fart lasted two years and resulted in a casualty -- in 2008, he ordered a CT scan that revealed a malignant tumor in the pancreas of a patient, but he didn't tell her about it until 2010, when it was too late to do anything about it. Unfortunately, she died two weeks later. It's unclear from the reports whether Dr. Choy didn't notice the tumor at first or if he simply didn't remember to bring it up the five other times the patient returned over the years.
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"But then we wouldn't have time to talk about my screenplay idea, Anuses Of Ecstasy IX."
Oh, but Dr. Choy's story was just getting started. Fearing this mistake would spell the end of his career, Choy made the infinitely more career-ending decision to lie like a kid who just got a bad report card at school. Which is to say, he altered his patient's records to make it look like he had warned her about the tumor. He just grabbed an old document and scrawled "possible malignant tumor" on it, which is spectacularly illegal.
It says that or "dirigible soylent (tm)" -- we're not sure.
Of course, since you're reading about this, you've already guessed that this guy got caught: A judge wrote that it was an "undisputed fact" that Choy altered medical records. And then ... nothing really happened. The court ordered Choy's license to be taken away, but it was reinstated five minutes later in recognition of his 40 years of practice and squeaky-clean record -- even though this wasn't his first rodeo. In 1998, the New York board ordered Choy to surrender his license after being caught claiming he was board-certified, even though he wasn't. He gave up his license without a second thought ... because what the hell, he had three more. It totally slipped Choy's mind to inform the states of Arizona, Florida, and New Jersey of his uncertified-ness until they discovered the deception on their own, for which they administered the same little wrist slap to the guy.
This time, Choy is being forced to pay a fee and attend a class on ethics, but, considering this is the second time he got away with lying his ass off, we're guessing those classes aren't likely to sink in. Let's just hope the third time's a charm.
Aaaaand this is where the article officially starts getting batshit insane. When you're laying down on a dentist's chair, you have no clue what the hell is happening in your dumb, numb, drooling mouth -- you just have to sit there and trust that he won't do something like, say, fill syringes with his own bodily fluids and empty them inside your throat. Unfortunately, in the case of Dr. John Hall from North Carolina, that trust proved to be entirely misplaced.
We're saying he shot jizz into people's mouths.
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And thus was born the least intimidating supervillain ever: Needle-Dick.
Hall's assistants thought it was kind of weird that he kept asking them to leave the room to fetch instruments he never used and that he could constantly be overheard telling patients to "swallow" something when he was alone with them. The assistants eventually found five syringes with what turned out to be Hall's man juice and turned them over to the police, then washed their hands for five days straight. To the patients (who couldn't taste anything, since their mouths were anesthetized), Hall would say that the mysterious substance was "cleaning solution" or, in at least one case, "definitely not sperm."
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"Oh, I thought you said it smells like seamen. I was a little offended."
One of Hall's patients also came forward to allege that, in addition to the nasty mouth rinse, Dr. Feelgood had climbed on top of her and started grinding places dentists have no business grinding. When he was exposed, Hall tried to explain away the syringes full of spunk by saying he was taking Propecia and was collecting his semen to study the effects of the miracle elixir on his little swimmers. Shockingly, this excuse didn't fly, and he ended up pleading guilty.
After finally admitting to what he had been doing, Hall was sentenced to five years of super serious, super supervised probation ... but he decided that was just too much hassle and asked for prison instead. Hall was given only four months in prison, an outcome that deeply worried and offended one of the victims and baffled the shit out of his lawyer, who admitted this was the first time any of his clients had ever opted for jail time. Maybe he's hoping there's a position open in the prison infirmary?
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A high survival rate is the type of thing most doctors would kill for -- but, you know, not literally, for obvious reasons. Dr. Farid Fata threw caution (and his track record) to the wind when he cottoned to an idea that would have him sleeping on piles of money in his storage locker. As an oncologist, Fata provided chemotherapy treatment to patients suffering from cancer ... and those who didn't have it, too.
It's the most expensive haircut they ever got.
Fata, who redefines the term "cancer doctor," noticed his patients became considerably less profitable for him whenever they went into remission, so he decided to simply not give them the good news. That way, he could continue their treatments and keep raking in those sweet chemotherapy dollars -- over 100 million of them in a six-year period. And it's not like he was just telling them to take a couple of extra aspirins a day: He was forcing patients to put up with pain, nausea, nerve damage, and a laundry list of other potential chemotherapy side effects for no good reason (no, "buying myself a castle in Lebanon" isn't one).
And since he was doing that, he figured he might as well start diagnosing patients with cancer who didn't actually have it, all so he could bill the pricey treatments to their insurance companies. When the feds caught up with him, he had convinced a healthy woman she needed to get a completely unnecessary (and expensive) bone-marrow transplant. Did you fall and hit your head? Then it's chemotherapy for you, says Dr. Fata! And then you die from not getting the head injury treated, as one of his patients reportedly did.
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"I'm sorry, but it's a new boat- CANCER! It's cancer."
Fata predictably pled guilty to 13 counts of being a giant dick and should be sentenced sometime this year -- the court just postponed the sentencing because hundreds of people are still coming forward. But hey, if there's one consolation to Fata's victims, it's that they found out they don't really have cancer. Sadly, we can't say the same for the people who got duped by the following doctor ...
#NotAllEvilDoctors are male -- sometimes, the evil bastard sits down to pee. Dr. Christine Daniel, who most definitely owns a vagina despite the surname, is one of said seated-peeing bastards. Daniel also treated cancer sufferers, but unlike Fata, who made everyone believe their prospects were much bleaker than they actually were, Daniel sold the promise of life itself to her desperate patients: Out of the kindness of her heart (and for a not-very-modest fee), she would hook people up with a mysterious herbal potion called "C-Extract" that could cure cancer. Or, at the very least, it could improve your esophagus' tan, because that shit was actually just suntan lotion combined with beef flavoring and lord knows what else.
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"A dentist friend helped me out with the ingredients."
Also unlike Fata, Daniel wasn't even an oncologist -- she was just your average family doctor. She was an ordained minister, though, and was able to use that position to peddle her snake oil on religious broadcasting networks to people of faith. Hopeful patients started trading in their legitimate treatments for Daniel's injections, in some cases paying as much as $13,000 for a treatment that we're pretty sure you could get for free by scraping the skin of any former Jersey Shore cast member.
Not content with only screwing over the children of God and cancer sufferers, Daniel started claiming the extract would also cure MS, Alzheimer's disease, and myriad other terrible illnesses, because she was already going to Hell, so why not? Yes, we are as shocked as you are that some of those people asking for money while praising Jesus on TV are full of shit.
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"Look, if the popes can own a golden throne, why can't I?"
Daniel denied the charges vehemently, but was ultimately convicted and sentenced to 14 years in prison, because lying only works if you're a dude.
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Most gynecologists will tell you they've seen so many vaginas in their life that, to them, they're like any other body part. But for some, the novelty never wears off. Dr. Paul Becton was definitely in the latter category. Despite Becton's obvious easy access to lady bits, he apparently felt he needed a visual aid for those times when a patient wasn't immediately legs askew in front of him. Instead of turning to the Internet like any normal deviant would, Becton started using his cellphone to snap pictures of his patients' backsides behind their backs ... ides.
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"Do you mind if I set up a couple of floodlights? It's a little dark in here."
After a rather "touchy" exam that left a patient a little confused and uncomfortable (even by OB/GYN visit standards), Becton asked her to turn around and bend over so he could check her kidneys. At this point, we'd all be shouting out the names of pornos we know this scene from, but, trusting her doctor more than her instincts, Becton's patient complied. It was then that she noticed Becton holding his phone in the mirror, a fact the doctor tried to hide by quickly slipping the device in his pocket when she turned around. The tent that had presumably sprung up in the lower region of his coat probably helped distract attention from the phone too.
However, the patient wasn't fooled and filed a complaint against Becton. Police subsequently found multiple naked pictures of different women on Becton's phone, which would have been fine if it wasn't for the fact that they all appeared to have been taken in a gynecologist's office.
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The world's most uncomfortable casting couch.
Becton pleaded guilty and has just been sentenced to 36 months in prison. He will also be registered as a sex offender and will no longer be allowed to practice, proving honesty does not beget rewards when you're a huge creep. Clearly, Becton could take a few pointers from Choy up there.
If you wake up in Kosovo to find yourself all alone, with sloppy stitches and a missing kidney, you either took a wrong turn somewhere and wound up in an urban legend, or you're a patient at the Medicus Clinic. The clinic was run by Dr. Lutfi Dervishi, who employed several other doctors and his own son in a scheme to con patients out of organs and money.
And the signs looked so trustworthy.
The clinic would convince people who were down on their luck that they could give their organs to those in need and make some cash -- it was like donating blood, but much more painful and illegal. What they were actually doing was selling the "donated" organs on the black market, pocketing the cash, and abandoning the donors with little to no medical care. Police found records of every operation carried out, along with forms the donors had signed confirming the donations were for a "humanitarian" purpose -- which is debatable, since we're not entirely sure that the ones who benefited qualify as humans. According to the uncovered documents, 30 people were robbed of their innards in just one month, so essentially a person a day. Hopefully they could afford post-operation ice cream for everyone.
Though Dervishi was the head of the clinic, he was by no means the creepiest person involved in the organ-trafficking ring. That honor went to Dr. Yusuf Sonmez, a surgeon described by his peers as "accomplished but rebellious." Pro Tip: "Rebellious" isn't a quality to look for in your employees when their jobs involve holding knives.
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"Scalpels? Where we're going, we don't need scalpels."
Sonmez had previously gotten into trouble for trafficking organs in Turkey before relocating his illegal activities to Kosovo. When police searched the clinic for evidence, they found boxes of medical tools with Sonmez's name written on them, because damn these guys were not good at keeping secrets.
While the rest of Sonmez's cronies were busy having the book thrown at them, Sonmez went on the lam, skipping not only the town but presumably the country, as officials believe the mad doctor to be somewhere in South Africa. The actual whereabouts of the man dubbed "The Vulture Doctor" are anybody's guess, but we're pretty sure Batman should start searching for a trail of bleeding, kidney-less South Africans.
That dentist entry is the worst thing Carolyn has ever had to write, so follow her on Twitter maybe?