the baron

it is not so long time ago, that we received a message that there was a baron underway with a very delicate problem. the baron belonged to a famous house descended from the distant past and the baron had adapted himself in the course of the years in a way that his fundaments also started to show some defects. he loved to listen music especially the classics, he dreamed away in a sweet way and like a proper baron becomes he had at his proposal a butler, who we will name james because of privacy. of cause it wasn’t his real name. james was devoted to his master for years now and fore sure after the time that the baroness passed away.

so it happened on an eve, when the baron was laying on his couch listening to bach and after a drinking-bout, where the baron had let himself go in a distinguished way, that he enjoyed an adagio con vibrato, that suddenly the last part of the adagio came lose and closed in an spectaculair way the bachanal. and because it was not that easy to wait untill the batteries became unloaded - you all know the reclame-spot of the drumming rabbit with the duracell plus advanced performance battery - and also because the internal massage wasn’t that nice and on the long run painful, the baron ordered his butler james to phone the first aid department with haste, to tell that they were coming in no time and also because james wasn’t able to counteract or to withdraw the vibrator.

and because they asked explicit to handle the problem with confidency and care the news spreaded like a fire so almost everybody was waiting at the intrance of the first aid. the baron and his butler james were received with all regards. in the beginning you could think that the baron suffered on a refined form of parkinson, because he was continue nodding his head, but later after a deep examination the diagnose was renamed as pseudo-parkinsonism due to a interfering mechanism. the x-ray of the lower abdomen showed the corpus non si alienus clearly and they made the decision to perform a coloscopy.

but because the form of the corpus delicti looked like a torpedo and had a very smooth but hard surface. therefore, the chance to catch the torpedo with the small arm of the coloscope was very low. maybe i may stand still with the problem, but not the questionable vibrator in action, that easy bumped away from the taster of the coloscope. so they made the decision to manipulate during a short narcose, because it was easier to manoeuvre with suitable equipment and indeed now it was possible to extract the little theme park to export it outside the gate. the baron was allowed to rest for some time in the verkoever-chamber.

the apparatus was switched off, the trophy cleaned and polished and handed triumphant back to his legitimate owner (not send retour). our advise was to bore a hole central in the screw cap to fix a life-line if u understand what i mean. after the intervention in the operatingroom there was no sign anymore of parkinsonism, notwithstanding the fact that the baron made a certain movement with his right hand that ressembled strongly counting money, but afterall it showed that he informely asked for the bill. but as you know, we send first the bill to the assurance company and the remaining amount nicely in a closed envelope.

the footing nurse

unbelievable but true, isn’t it? dream sweet away with me. it all happens in my examination room, alast already a while ago. a nurse phoned me for an appointment more to start a conversation about her unfaithful husband than about her nervous heartcomplaints. she needed more a listening ear: her husband had for years now a half-hearted relation out of the house and brought all his hard earned money to his protégé rather than to his family and his wife disagreed of course. not that she couldn't do anything about it - they were married under matrimonial settlements – and they had two children, still studs at the university. because he payed much attention and money to his concubine, he kept lesser money for the greedy tax in a way that his working wife was assessed for the tax of her licentious husband. she was touched by it, knowing that the man in question earned around 1000 € a day.

because of his free profession the questionable man was always on the run and almost never at home, but more at home in his married concubine than in his own house. the husband of the concubine didn’t object against the fact that the freelancer deposited his money and other affairs in her pouch and obvious the couple amused themselves about his credulity an innocent loyalty of the well-paying boarder, he hadn’t the slightest idea or insight in his addiction-problem, despite he was well-educated at the university in the past and mastered his knowledge of psychology. we call that a blind spot. he couldn’t do nothing about his addiction, she was so sweet and dependent of him, one could classified his behaviour as infantile. with regard to the gestalt-psychology we are not surprized by the fact that the man in question was small-shaped and quite uncertain.

she was a good looking nurse with a slim posture and half short or long steep blond hair and bright blue active investigating eyes with some smiling wrinkles on both corners. in a charming way they gave her a certain cachet. and because i had to examen her, she undressed herself and layed herself without words on the researcher’s couch. i examenated her lege artis and when i reached her feet to feel the arterial pulses – i stand at’s couch end – she raised suddenly her legs and let slowly down her feet on my lower abdomen on a very delicate region and she started slowly to massage with encircling movements my good fellow, movements that didn’t leaves me cold in a way that there was blow up slowly a tent in the trousers of my doctor’s suite. my tent peg grew bigger and bigger. she looked at me in a very challenging and inviting way, meanwhile sighing modestly.

and because i had to take an electrocardiogram to be sure, i squirted her torso with an cold solution of isopropylalcohol and rubbed her with my big warm hands to disperse the solution on her breasts. she close her eyes for a while but not before she outed a little cry. then she put her hand on the tent in my trousers, untied the lace to see the tent and to support the rockhard stick. because she was laying down on the couch and me aside standing upright, the tent and the stick looks like one apt for more persons by optic illusion. she shouted: “oh my god” explaining in the mean time that her unfaithful husband was equipped with a minimal toy of joy and that is was self-evident that it was her first time that she saw such a big stick meaning that it was the first time that she committed adultery. i thought:” thanks god” and she greatly appreciated the taste of the good gifts.

the lady in the fur coat

i have to tell u a nice anecdote. this morning there was in my waiting room a very imposing lady dressed in redfox - a stylish fur coat - indeed a very handsome appearance. she complainted about a progressive itching eruption on the inner side of her arms and legs. she showed to me, withstanding some scruples and she asked me for a suitable cream to cool off. i replied her, that i had to inspect first her lovable behind before i could make the diagnosis with certainty. sure enough i got a red hed, when she lifted her fur coat up- and her laced slip downwards in a pert way, meanwhile looking backwards naughty. there can be no two ways about it, that i got a pride pale and blushed. she offered in a simple way her hand by putting it on my fly for unzipping and to relief the tension. when she saw the tube, who had to rub her with ointment, she shouted hi and she squeezed for a moment the tube at the basis and when she acquired a taste for it, she layed down with her belly on the saddle of the bicycle-ergometer with her delicate nude bum backwards in an inviting way in the same time with her hands on the handle bar conducting her derrière. i pushed slowly my tube inside her gallipot, in the beginning with some labor but after a while running steady and smoothly. she shouted hi again, nice to meet u and after she was sure that she had emptied the tube with the ointment totally at its end she said: i believe that the therapy was successful, doctor, it is itching no more. what is the all-in cost doctor? for u dear 100 € and put that amount in our housekeeping money ;)

the salesman

now i tell you some pecularities of my secret life, i remembered an accident from the eighties that showed some rememblance with the consultation of the two woman (see infra 2007/10/02). during my consultation i saw a well-to-do man about 45 years of age, a merchant in hi-fi apparature and related articles such as video’s and cd’s. i didn’t know his business for the fact that his shop was located twenty kilometers wider in an other town. he came on advise of his wife, who i examinated two weeks before in my consultation-room.

he showed me a photo of his wife because i asked for and i recognized her at once, a strong tall very healthy woman with a two pair of hard disks, so firm, that the computer-specialist. Would be jealous on for sure, knowing the capacities of the hard disks, that must be in the megabytes. it was a gay cheerful woman, looking good for her age. after the examination i told her she was so healthy and she said to me very content, that she would send her quite stressed husband in short time.

and indeed, the opposite of the rest it self, he was quite nervous and had clearly less brain-capacities than his ega. than he truststed me that he and his wife sometimes visited the horseclub and i said:” oh quite sportive”. he didn’t understand what i ment by that and later it showed that he ment the club for pairs. i am a little bit hard of hearing, especially when people mumples of speak with the head turned away. i said:”oh quite sportive” and he thought i ment that i had the intention to go with them for once.

i was quite busy with the anamnesis to write it down and mumpled between my nose and lips that he should take his clothes off in the cabin in the corner, a kind of a modern change-clothes column ( the eye needs to see something nice too). i rent my consultation room from a collegue specialist in rheumatology. he was the famous owner of a big medical centre, in wich he employed another six collegues. this centre was more payed off by the renting doctors and the unlucky patients rather than by himself. we call that:"writing off".

the building was equipped with a radiology, a fysiotherapy department, a chemical, a spirometry and lab for allergy lab. this to give you any idea about the complexity of the building. on top of the medical centre, he was also with his wife an - aesthesist of profession - the owner of a big sewing-atelier that listens to to the adequate name of rambo. the six specialists were in a way dependant of him, despite he said the contrary. i think that the word:”dichotomy” was re-invented by him.

this aside. it was a square-like building with four flours, the building layed a bit retro in perspective of the road. de entrance was marked by a fairly big door of bronze. by that looking a bit pompous. the windows were made from darkpurple stained glass, strange looking and more apt for a funerarium than a medical centre. the front of the building was embellished by a new fontain on cost of the community and there was said by evel tongues that the fontain spouted corticosteroids.

you might guess wherefrom rambo gets his skills for administrative tasks. he is an honored member of the rotary-club. it seems that he cares a great deal for good causes. it is self-evident that he was a honored member of the order of the blue button and that he smokes sometimes a senator, if the banderol it allows. his flourishing practice enjoyed the special attention as well from the riziv as the bbi (tax-fraud-squad) and if he hadn’t acquired definite immunity as a senator just in time, he would be in prison already before his 55th year of age.

but belgium wouldn’t be belgium if this kind of matters couldn’t exist. besides i am a dutch doctor living in belgium and not allowed to meddle with other people’s affairs. so, i was busy to write down the anamnesis of my patient on paper and for a moment in the spirit, the salesman was already undressed, i looked over the rim of my double-focussed stylish glasses of italian origine – a specialist had to be impressive – and saw suddenly the naked patient gay-looking in his naked peak rising before my nose.

the period that i experimented layed long behind me, because of my wise age, but because i didn’t know, what his wife had told about me, i said casually:” mmm, that looks quite sportive, but only put him back in his box now”. i informed carefully if he had understood, what bussiness a cardiologist does exactly. he tooks it sportsmanlike and putted his riding horse back in his trousers, who still layed in the cabine’s box. besides a slight mental handicap he was perfectly healthy. surely it is tiresome if u are hard of hearing ;)

the two woman

now i started to reveal some secrets of my profession, the underlaying motives, the psychics and the defense-mechanisms, i go back to the eighties, were i became almost protestant de novo through the merchandising of the company rambo, that layed good in the market at that time and every body sewed, who had connections with rambo, marked by the words;”we are so good for u, we stitch you if possible”.

in the waiting-room of my consultation there seated a woman of two, or something alike, surely very ordinary, you know them well, costumized in fur coats with long hairs, who had have their best time as well the fatty blond curly hair, that only lacked the pads. stereotyped dressed in little skirts and nylons running to the crotch, that u could find with a little chance, if you hold the right position.

i forgot the reason of the consultation, maybe something like stabs in the breasts. both of the woman could be employed with ease in the sewingfactory of rambo as needlewoman, and if they didn’t work there already, they had employed at ease for a poorly remuneration, when they had sollicitated for the job. the firm rambo always had a good sense for business, i call it myself:”the sewing of cunts”.

the first young lady about 25 years of age, dowdy and dummer blond, tried to explain to me her complaints with a really hoarse voice, meanwhile looking moretimes to the older woman - maybe 10 years – the diagnosis was made already and because i wanted not to loose my good name, i asked her to undress the the upper body in the dressing-box in the corner of my consulting-room, quite a nice and modern dressing-column.

i asked myself why i was so surprized, when she stepped back in the room again almost totally naked except for a flesh-colored slip with underbeneath an inviting slit for the buyers, that showed a quite dark bunch of public hair. it let an burning impression in my not insensible retina, by wich i almost suffered from an acute absolutio retinae.

in the past i was used to strange situations, but in all the years of my practice i have seen nothing but solid belgium drawers. i don’t exaggerate when i say that they (the patients) confronted me on the average one time in three years with a nice pair of “haute couture” such as a nice colored model with a mystic scent, something piquancy of lace, mostly french or italian from origine. but nothing of that fore-mentioned label had her ordinary slip.

therefore i asked myself what the hidden intention was, the reason why the lady putted on this special slip for my consultation and i had to conclude that she had the intention to screw me in public whilst her girlfriend was looking, to make her hot for the game after. that she could be deligate on purpose by the firm rambo seems not logical and over the point.

besides i have to tell u, that i was not afraid, because rambo himself screwed his little italian secretary on the fourth flour of his medical centre and not in his sewing-atelier, but this fact i didn’t now at the time of the consultation of the two woman. so i was right in my assumption that they couldn’t delegated by his firm, but i am cautious, i learned from the past. so i said - a master worthy - i see u took your mother with you. than they started to yell and leaved my consulting-room under protest, not clear what they ment by that. fuck them all. tweedledum and tweedledee!

the young man

as you might know or maybe not, i am a doctor and certainly not an usual one, i am specialist in the cardio-vascular field; surely you are familiar with the procedure of undergoing an electrocardiogram of your heart. when you are blessed with an older age, and why shouldn’t it be your privilege, you remember still the fatty feeling of the cold paste from the tube, that was squeezed on your body at particular positions - about twelf pieces - exactly on the spots of the electrodes, eight suckers on the chest and four clamps on the arms and legs. indeed laborious but straight and delicious old-fashioned. what an unsavoury mess, fortunately there was already toiletpaper available at that time.

but good times changes and technics don’t standstill and so the old-fashioned clamps and suckers, who felt down from the body at regular times according to the law of murphy and exact at that time, that the electrocardiogram was running of course - for the more distinguished people under you to registrate - replaced by an advanced sucking and blowing pipe-system and the pasta or cream by an 20%-isopropylalcohol solution with the intention to clean the skin from smear and by doing so to improve the contact between the skin and the electrodes to obtain a better signal and thus a better electrocardiogram. this for the people who can’t read an electrocardiogram.

an electrocardiogram is what they call a standard investigation technic by wich you can diagnose several heart-diseases without upsetting the patients. and so i saw on a certain morning in my consultation-room a young man, who needed a so-called preoperative electrocardiogram because of an approaching teeth-extraction. of course you know for sure that this procedure is obliged by the national secret service, because they watches over your health like big brother. this is exactly the reason why this extractions had to take place under general anesthesia. besides this method prevents medical overconsumption under the condition that the whole set of teeth is extracted at the same time.

they call that prevention. and prevention is better than cure as you know. but if you have to appear in court for the fact that you have used to much prevention in the past, than you laugh at the wrong side of your mouth, because you will punished by the riziv, an effective and repressive governemental health organisation. there you are with your beautiful mouth full of teeth. the riziv is a skilful apparatus to kill honest and hard working civilians with one-person practices for the benefit of the local ocmw’s and universital hospitals, who are almost founded by the riziv itself or brooked by it. the institutions where the only real unalloyed overconsumption take place or had to take place. the reason is that there workes as twice as much officials than doctors.

with self-sufficient clinics the riziv talks behind closed doors, if u understand, what i mean. so that young man with some tooth asked me, after i had him sprayed with the 20%-isopropylalcohol solution and squeezed it on his chest - alcohol is so fluidly and falls so easy from your body – :”are u doing this with all your patients?”. obvious he pointed out to my female patients because of his twinkling eyes and i answered him:”no of cause not, i cut first the breasthair of maroccan and turkish people”. he looked at me amused and asked:”and the woman, doctor?”. i replied astonished:”have they also breasthairs?” and the young man felt laughing loud from the examination table on his mouth with the few tooth, and that i call real prevention;)

mackabee

water sand sky and rock
all elements were in stock
the only problem nowaday
is that they are blown away
by mankind and desert storm
with radiation as standardnorm
thanks clinton jr the mackabee
with a bone in his hand and a fee

triangel-relation ?

i got a phonecall from a patient, with whom i was familiar for years now because of palpitations. she felt uneasy because she noticed a worrying pain in her left shoulder and arm for almost a week now. she was nervous and became anxious, she interrupted for some days her work as a beauty-specialist. although is wasn’t logic that her complaints originated from the heart – she was 32-years young lady - i ordered her to visit my practice to be sure.

she walked as straight as an arrow thanks the two irons in her back, she got earlier from her professor because of her scoliosis. and because she had not much to suspend on the two irons, she ordered two breasts prostheses, in the beginning cup c and after her divorce even cup d and everybody was content with that except mister e. therefore is seems more logical that her complaint rather originated from a shoulder-hand problem than from her heart.

because of the excitement she suffered more from her supraventriculair tachycardia’s than she was before, notwithstanding the use of medication (bisoprolol and tambocor). and maybe of the stress, - who knows - she also felt pain localized on her inner left upper thigh, she thought it could be a varicose vein, because she spotted soms circumscript swelling there. her presumption seems to me very plausible (she gave birth to a son some time ago now).

so, she was a beautyspecialist from profession and i must say that she honored that profession by being such a beauty. and a beauty she was, polish from origin, long straight black glossy hair almost up to the butts, light blue-steeled smiling eyes and sparsely a tattoo. with tattoos she weighted 52 kilograms for a length of 1.64 meters. her heartbeat was much slower than mine thanks to her bisoprolol and my pacemaker, programmed for acceleration, especially when i had to examen her thoroughly. i needed to make an electrocardiogram.

she weared a tight-fitting jeans, and because i needed to place two electrodes on her legs - besides the fact that i had to examen her varicose vein on her inner upper left leg – she stripted herself very slow and elegantly, revealing bit by bit her nudity to me, but in a certain provocative way as she sigsawed her hips and butts in the same time looking straight in my eyes. than she stepped out of her jeans and showed me her butts and her string in between.

during the inspection of her varicose vein on her left inner upper thigh, my attention was moretimes distracted to her strong-shaped brown buttocks and her miniscule string in between, that was connected via a lace to an v-formed little piece on front of her and it caused a definite vibration in my own musical string. there was almost nothing left for my imagination and it could be my fantasy, but i had the impression that the brown eye under the lace winked at me.

and to say it in an other very uncommon but mathematic way, my square root stood as straight proportional to her triangle and was raised to an unknow e-square, that urged to multiplication. in the beginning it was in slow a-logrithmic way but later on as time strokes in cadanza and integer way, so one could speak of a certain correlation coëfficient and a defenite tolerantion with respect to her confidention limit ;)