Journal of Ambulatory Care Management:
Live From the Real World of Managed Care
Holt, Mark W. MD
Dr Holt is in private practice at MD Pediatric Associates, Lewisville, Texas ( firstname.lastname@example.org).
Note from the Editor: As usual, TROT Line exaggerates, embellishes, and goes way over the edge shamelessly and without the slightest drop of remorse. Any resemblance to a real person—living, dead, or on CPAP—is strictly semicoincidental and not (intentionally) on purpose. Humor represents the only mechanism that a journal editor has left to confront the absolute craziness that is occurring in today's medical marketplace. I would encourage readers to submit humor op-ed pieces on today's health care system.
The author has disclosed that he has no significant relationships with, or financial interest in, any commercial companies pertaining to this article.
MAYDAY! MAYDAY! Trapped in ObamaCare Web site for past month! Kaiser could care less! MMH (MobileMedicalHome) Up in Smoke! Sibs Takes the Fall for MineShaft/Call of Booty BeatDown Virus! B-Rack Uses Slick Crossover to Take BS to the Hole! Pooter Called for Flagrant 1 by Merkie! VP Blames Corrupt NBA Refs and Confiscates BrooklynnNets! Calls Nets as Russian as Flatbush and a Hotbed of Russian Patriots! Willie Sends Driver Durl to Blunt Pooter's Stranger Anxiety! BrunoMars Tied Up and Racked on The Dooby—I mean WillieBus! Durl Claims WillieBus “Running Faster than ObamaCare Web site”! Sibs Gets All Huffy (SuperGlue According to DDurl) and Resigns to WriteCode for AliBaba! BBC Claims AliB Shares Plunge “Like a Malysian Jet” ! Kaiser Could Still Care Less!
So bear with me. I am living a bad dream that is endlessly relentless and way too complicated. Speaking of complicated, the reason I accepted the position of MMHC (MobileMedicalHome Coordinator) was that this was my way of exploring the desert roads between The Compound and SoCal (ok—it was Castoff—not Coordinator) using The Thumb Railways (aka Hitchhiking) to seek out a new position with KaiserKare. Why? I just want to get a job as a RealPediDoctor without all the rules and double secret regs that you have to stick with or your patients think you are “dumb as a post.” The coup de formulary was when I had to get a PA (Prior Authorization, which is code for we will do everything we can to circulate your calls among a mind-numbing group of “customer-service reps,” none of whom are authorized to deal with your problem except to give you the voice mail extension for the next rep in the call center rotation) for Amoxicillin. Bernie Mack, the alleged dad of Bernie Junior, called ‘cause Junior told him that the only Tear1 (that is as in tears on my StrawberryShortcake Pillow) med covered by his new insurance for strep throat was PenVK, which tasted like “2-day-old puke” (per Junior). Apparently, Junior spit it right into old Bernie's Ducks Gone Wild beard. Even worse, the PenVPuke, as Bernie screamed into my Compound-issued Army surplus Motorolda cell phone, dribbled down on his new Deception Camo T-shirt.
So yes, I was dumb enough to ask him what the heck was so special about a “Deception” T-shirt? Ole Bernie screamed into the phone that I must be from some Communist Russian territory like Flatbush ‘cause I knew nothing about the DuckGoneWild Brothers movie about a band of Harley brothers who steal the wildass dreams of Commie migrant workers masquerading as basketball players for some team in Russian-occupied NewYork called the Nets.
That rang a bell in my rattled hindbrain, so I asked the next Stupid Question: Hasn't there been a movie about stealing...?
Nope—LennyDiCapesh tried to make this ripoff of our Brothers movie, but it was a failed bit that had left-wing dreams oozing out of every scene in that so-called Inception movie. I refused to let my gorgeous bride watch a lick of that flick ‘cause we don't believe in Inception before marriage. In fact, that's how Junior got that streptocock-eyed infection—he snuck around and ordered that Communist North Korean pr nightmare on NetFlickers. And the next morning he woke up with a 103 and his throat on fire. I am convinced beyond a shadow of any dount that the NonTruthers who made that movie figured out a way to spread disease and antifishing thoughts right out of my brand new 48-inch Samsung split-screen. So get Junior some Amoxicillin or we may just have to find a real right-wing, duck-hunting Tea-party–approved baby doctor who treats his patients like REAL Americans.
Next day I received a very abrupt, curt note from The Compound Chief of Ammo, Camo, and DoctorCashFlow letting me know I would need to find a new “MobileMedicalHome” effective as soon as I got Junior's PA for Amox-approved STAT. So, yes, I lost my brand new Acer laptop and my mortgaged to the max new double-wide MobileHome. The Chief also told me that I would be welcome back when The Compound duck pond freezes over (which I got in writing—just in case.
So I told you this was way too complicated (and will be continued next time), but I am writing from inside the OC—yes ObamaCare!—Web site, which, and I know you will not believe this one, combines the forebrain of ValPutin and the hindbrain of BS—Brittany Spears—and this endless recording of Willie singing his cover of People Are Strange. I keep requesting Willie to play BlueEyesCrying on the OC Web site, but he refuses to have anything to do with me until I get rid of ValPooter and his bad Russian gas. I thought Russian gas was very clean-burning, but Willie got TeddyCruzz to give me the real lowdown about Pooter's gas problem.