Read Trust Me, I'm Dr Ozzy Online

Authors: Ozzy Osbourne

Tags: #Humor, #BIO005000, #Entertainment & Performing Arts, #General, #Biography & Autobiography, #Health & Fitness

Trust Me, I'm Dr Ozzy (14 page)

BOOK: Trust Me, I'm Dr Ozzy
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Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I have a corn on my right foot, and after a lot of consideration, I’m thinking of trimming it myself. Are there any risks I should know about?

Gian, Frosinone, Italy

Don’t do it, man. Seriously. I had a hairdresser once who got some kind of growth on his foot, so he dealt with it himself, forgot about it for years, then found out—too late—that it was cancer. The other thing you’ve gotta bear in mind is, your entire body is weighing down on that foot for most of the day, so if things go wrong in that area, it can have consequences you can’t even imagine. I mean, if you got a blow-out on your car, would you get out your little bicycle repair kit, glue the hole back together, then head out on the motoroway? No. So get yourself to a doctor—or better yet, a chiropodist.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Is it really true that a Russian GP stationed in Antarctica removed his own appendix, spent only a fortnight recovering, then carried on with his work? Could anyone basically perform a self-appendectomy if there were no other help available?

Gillian, Spain

I got someone to look this up for me, and as mind-blowing as it sounds, it’s absolutely true. It ain’t the only case, either. Another doctor in America took out his own appendix just to prove that his anaesthetic worked (it’s a good job the guy wasn’t selling guns for a living—he might have ended up shooting himself in the head to prove his bullets worked). Just because a few nutters have managed to slice themselves open doesn’t mean anyone else should try it, though—no matter what the circumstances. Unless you’ve got a set of mirrors handy, some sharp knives, a bag of hardcore antibiotics, and a pair of balls the size of Mount Rushmore, you’d be better off using your energy to find medical attention before you start digging around in your own stomach with a Swiss Army Knife. I mean, could you honestly say you’d even know what an appendix looked like? Knowing me, I’d end up cutting out a lung instead.

Dr. Ozzy’s Trivia Quiz: Under the Knife

Find the answers—and tote up your score—
here

1. Which of these horrendous medical errors really happened?
a) Amputating the wrong leg
b) Bifurcation (which left the patient with a forked tongue)
c) Transplanting the wrong heart and lungs
2. Which of these DIY cosmetic surgeries did people
really
attempt?
a) A nose job with a chisel and a chicken bone
b) Double chin surgery with a bread knife and a vacuum cleaner
c) Lip augmentation with an injection of “sexual lubricant”
3. What does “auto-enucleation” mean?
a) Deliberately exposing yourself to radiation
b) Gouging out your own eyes
c) When you body rejects an anaesthetic
4. In Medieval times, who did you go to for surgery?
a) A barber
b) A blacksmith
c) A carpenter
5. Which of these famous medical cases resulted in death…
a) The man who removed his own pacemaker
b) The man who deliberately cycled into the back of a truck to fracture his jaw, so it could be reset in a “more attractive” way
c) The woman who tried to give herself liposuction by cutting her thighs and squeezing out the fat

General Practise

6

Dr. Ozzy’s A-to-Z of Uncommon Complaints

E
very day, people write to me about the craziest shit you’ve ever heard in your life. A lot of the questions are so far-out, it’s impossible to sort them into any normal categories. That’s why I’ve put all the whacky stuff into this chapter and listed them alphabetically—so if you swallow a tennis ball, get a screwdriver stuck in your right ear, or start vomiting through your eyeballs, all you’ve gotta do is look under the right letter, and hope you find the answer. Personally, I wish I’d had a guide like this for myself over the years, ’cos it would have come in very handy that time when my right leg started to dance a jig all by itself (look under “J” for “Jimmy Legs”), or when I accidentally ate a bumblebee on the way to the pub (see “F” for “Flies & Other Insects’ ”). Oh, you’ll also find some “Surgery Noticeboard” announcements in between the Q&As: we print these in
The Sunday Times Magazine
whenever we get a ton of e-mails on one subject. As a fake newspaper doctor with fuck-all qualifications, I’m always happy to pass along other people’s dodgy advice.

A.

Animals (Effect on Mood)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

My dog, Clive (a Labrador), seems awfully glum, to the point where it’s beginning to get me down. Could he be suffering from doggie depression? If so, what can I do about it?

Amy, Lille, France

Doggie Prozac—ask your vet about it. Personally, the only doggie depression I’ve ever experienced is the feeling I get after one of my four-legged friends takes a dump behind the sofa.

Animals (Effect on Sleep)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Every night I go to bed with my dog, Ozzy (named after you), but wake up at 4am. I really want to stay in bed longer, but no matter what I do, I can’t get back to sleep. Is this something to do with Ozzy, do you think? Please help, it’s driving me crazy.

Sammy [No address given]

I don’t see how one dog could be much of an issue—I go to bed with 17 dogs, plus about 20 mobile phones, and the wife. It sounds to me more like you’ve got a sleep disorder. I’ve had the same problem for years, so I got someone to come over to the house one evening, put all these electrode things on my head, hook them up to a computer, and see what was going on in my brain. He was up all night, this guy, twiddling his knobs and studying his graphs—he must be a raging insomniac himself—and when the results came back, my doc put me on a mild anti-depressant which helps me nod-off easier. It beats sleeping pills. Or whacking myself on the head with a mallet.

B.

Brain (Use Of)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Is it true that humans use only 10 per cent of their brains, or is this just another one of those stupid myths?

Andrew, Kent

I fucking hope that ain’t the case, ’cos I’ve only got about ten per cent of my brain
left
. By your definition, that means I’m running on about one per cent these days. Actually… that explains a lot.

Breath (Offensive)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

My breath is really bad—to the point where I can’t talk to people who are close to me. I’m a student here in Ghana, and I find it difficult even just to say “Hello” to friends on campus, because I just don’t want to embarrass myself. Please Dr. Ozzy, I need your help…

Emmanuel, Ghana

A long time ago, I made a pact with my wife: if my breath is bad, she has to tell me—and vice versa. Obviously no-one needs to break the news to
you
, Emmanuel. By the sound of it, when you open your mouth, the sun gags. My guess is that the problem is being caused by one of two things: something very nasty in your gut, or gum disease. If I were you, my first stop would be a dentist—although you might want to give her some advance warning, so she can put on a rubber suit and face mask, and light a few candles around the room first. In the meantime, try Euthymol, an old English brand of toothpaste, which makes you feel like you just gargled with gasoline and lit a match. Also buy some ultra-strength mouthwash, like Listerine, and get yourself a tongue scraper.

Burping (Potential Side Effects Of)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

A friend told me that burping too hard can rip a hole in your stomach, is this true?

Anna (12 years old), Long Island, New York

No. I wouldn’t have any stomach left if that were the case. In fact, I once saw a bloke on telly who could talk and burp at the same time. I tried to do it myself once, but ended up puking into Sharon’s handbag. Lesson: some things are best left to the professionals.

Bedbugs

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

My husband and I have developed such a paralyzing fear of bedbugs that we’ve become like prisoners in our own home. How can we get over our paranoia?

Tara, West Village, New York

I’ve never had a problem with bedbugs—probably ’cos they take one sip of my blood and drop dead from all the toxic shit in there. But I understand your concern: no-one wants to wake up with a thousand little red bite marks on their ballsack. Just bear in mind that bedbugs aren’t the worst thing in the world. I’m about to go to South America, for example, and I’m told they have these “kissing spiders”: they crawl up your body and onto your face, squat over your lips, secrete an anaesthetic, suck out the blood, take a dump, then scamper away back to their holes. Meanwhile, the spider crap contains a kind of bacteria that literally eats your heart out. I’m so freaked out about it, I’m probably gonna spend the whole tour sleeping in a sealed Ziploc fucking bag.

C.

Cancer (Coping With)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

In the past five years, I’ve had two hip operations, throat cancer, and now a serious heart problem. As a result of chemo and radiotherapy I can eat only liquid food through a syringe into my stomach, and sex is impossible because of the beta blockers I take for my ticker. Thankfully I can still drink beer, but otherwise I’m rapidly losing my sense of humour, which isn’t like me. How can I cheer myself up?

Charlie (65 years old), Devon

This is one of the reasons why medical marijuana ain’t necessarily such a bad idea. I mean, anyone who reads “Ask Dr. Ozzy” on a regular basis knows that I always tell people to steer clear of weed ’cos you never know how strong it is, or how you’ll react (never mind that it’s illegal)—but over in Los Angeles, a lot of people with heavy-duty medical problems say that prescription pot helps them with everything from muscle pain to getting their appetites back. My advice is to talk to your doctor, keep drinking the beer, and try to find something else,
anything
, that gives you a break from the discomfort. It sounds like you’ve had some rotten luck, Charlie, and I wish you all the best.

Chewing Gum (Ingested)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I just swallowed a piece of chewing gum. Is it true this will take seven years to pass through my system?

Frank, Portsmouth

That can’t be true, otherwise I’d be half-human, half-spearmint by now.

Cruise Ships (Downsides Of)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

My wife wants to go on an expensive cruise ship holiday—but I’m afraid of getting food poisoning, falling overboard, or being seasick. Am I being too paranoid?

Tyler, Atlanta

No, you ain’t. I took the
QE2
to America once with Sharon, ’cos she was pregnant and couldn’t fly. I was so out of my fucking mind with boredom, it would have been a
relief
to fall overboard, quite frankly. In the end I begged the ship’s doc to give me something to knock me out. When I finally woke up in New York, Sharon was so angry, she tried to throw me through one of the portholes. I’ve never been on a cruise ship again.

BOOK: Trust Me, I'm Dr Ozzy
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