Are you one of those practices that has an expensive ultrasound
machine hanging around that you only drag out every now and then to do a
cysto? Why not try turning it into
a Time Machine and end your management cares today? Here’s how you do it.
The first thing you need is plans for how to convert an U/S
device into a Time Machine. I
downloaded my from the new VHMA website, but you can get them almost anywhere,
Internet, Popular Science magazine, anywhere really.
At first glance, the plans will seem awful confusing. The secret is to take it one step at a
time and know that eventually, you’ll make your way through. I hit more than one snag. The flux capicitor for one is a
problem. It requires a gram
of antimatter and I don’t know the last time you tried to get your hands on a
gram of antimatter, but it ain’t easy.
Fortunately we have a doctor on our staff that has always acted like she
was from outer space and turns out we were right. She’s actually here on a mission from the planet
Beepboop. She grudgingly consented
to give me the goods provided I keep her alien secret to myself. But getting the antimatter is
only half the battle, now you have to install it. The directions call for enormous radiation gloves but to be
honest, I couldn’t be bothered.
I used the cat gloves we have at our office …and except for a loss of
sensation in my little finger, they worked fine. The next is retooling the probe. I should warn you that the plans from the VHMA call for
ramming the probe in your…I mean, I hate to get graphic…but they call for
ramming the probe in your ear as part of the dematerializing process and my ears
are just not that big. I have
small, white collar, hospital manager ears, not big floppy regular people ears.
After you’ve completed your Time Machine, the next step is to try it
out. Now don’t try it on yourself,
because everybody knows as soon as you flip the switch the machine breaks, but
not before you’ve been irretrievably sent whirling off into the past. Happens in every time movie I’ve
ever seen. So do what I did. Pick an employee. This was one of the more satisfying
steps in the process. I picked
Margaret, our head receptionist.
Margaret has been on my list ever since last summer’s ‘bake a special
pie for the company picnic’ contest and she showed up with this show- stopping
peach cobbler and stole the blue ribbon right from under my nose. First of all, cobbler is not pie, it’s
cobbler. Second of all, Margaret
is always going on about this beautiful country house she has and how if she
doesn’t get up there every weekend to water the lawn (and the peach trees too,
no doubt), the whole WORLD will end and it really burns me up because someone
is stuck covering the hole in our schedule and it’s usually yours truly, so I
picked Margaret. I said to her,
“Hey hon, how’s about coming into the radiation room and sticking this little
thing in your ear for me and she said whatever for and I said, just try it for
a second, it’ll be fun.”
Well, she had a million and one excuses why she
couldn’t. “I’m not sticking
anything in my ear …or anywhere else for that matter,” she added when she saw I
was about to protest. “You stick
it in yours.” I think at next year's picnic we should have a Voldermort look-a-like contest. Love to see her win that.
So I used the hospital cat, Timmy. “Timmy,” I said, “you’ve probably heard about the dog they
put in orbit some time ago. Here’s
your chance to stake a claim for the feline population.” I put the probe up to the cat’s head,
flipped the switch and after a bright flash and loud crack, the cat was
gone. Somewhere in 1761, a
hospital cat named Timmy is wandering the streets of Colonial Williamsburg. Who knows, maybe musing over the
writings of a young Thomas Jefferson, or chasing mice in the basement of old
Bruton Parish.
Since the successful test, I’ve sent all sorts of things
back in time: our accounts receivable, short dated inventory, all that flea
product I ordered for the Spring Promotion that no one bought cause they could
get it at Walmart…why it is was only a few days ago I got the last of
everyone’s W2’s finished, but it wasn’t a problem. I just took them to my
trusty Time Machine and WHAM they were mailed off by the end of January 2011.
Then I got the bright idea, to doll up the probe to look
like a cell phone and I tell you there’s been no turning back. It’s been like bees to honey. Do you remember Tammy Wexler that I got
in the Kennel? I call her Tammy
Texter cause you can’t pry her off her phone. Well, I asked Tammy to listen to the new ring tone on ‘my
phone’ and as soon as she held that phony receiver up to her ear, ZAP!
Tammy is undoubtedly happier back in 1992 at the Kurt Cobain
concert I rocketed her off to.
God knows she has the paraphernalia to keep her popular there.
I also asked Mrs. Carminsky…do you know her? She’s that crazy rescue lady that’s
always dragging another stray in for us to save and guilting us out to do it
for free. I said, “Mrs. Carminsky, I
have the practice owner on the phone.
He wants to talk to you about Patches.” Then BANG! I
sent Mrs. Carminsky on a free 60 days and 60 nights cruise where she’ll be able to
do all the animal care in the world.
She set sail just yesterday aboard Noah’s Arc.
Turning the ultrasound into a Time Machine is one of the
best things I’ve done since outfitting our Vet Jet with chicken broth and using
it to baste last year’s Thanksgiving Turkey (Moist? You don’t know!)
So, take initiative and get that ultrasound device to do
something useful for a change.
Make a Time Machine today!
Read more of Bash’s rants at
www.halowconsulting.blogspot.com