my froggy friend and mentor

If there is one thing I could boast about myself, it would be this amazing gift that my Heavenly Father has blessed me with. For some of you who already know, I have the ability to visualize people as animals.......Animagus-vision (and yeah, I coined that term. Hehe.)

Do not be afraid dear readers, I mean no harm. The primal transfiguration can only occur unless you really look like or embody the characteristics associated with that animal. No offense to those who look like cockroaches.

I won't be too cruel, but I recently ''bumped'' into this 83 year old gentlemen who looked exactly like a wrinkled kermit frog. He wasn't apple green in colour, but his rotound belly, short skinny limbs, toothy grin (with a prominent gap between the two front teeth) and visible seborrhoeic warts on the forehead immediately conjured up an image of a bullfrog in my mind. The muddy-brown wet and slimy-skinned amphibian you would find in garden ponds. Whatever creature he was, it gratified my freakish imagination.
''You're not going to ask me why I came into hospital missus?'' Two shining bulging half-lidded eyes peered up at me.

That was how I bumped into Mr Toady. My first instincts told me to turn down his invitation and walk off so that I could procrastinate the remaining hours away. But somehow, I resisted the urge (Sir William Osler fantasy?!) and decided to interview him anyway, opening with the usual screening questions. Along the conversation, I made a mental note to keep the interview succinctly short and quick, because of the unpleasant fishy odour that reeked from a possible combination of a stale urine bag, unchanged bedsheets and unwashed hair.

''Are you going to ask me about more about my shortness of breath missus?,'' the edges of his cracked lips creased into a froggish-like grin. He sat on his arm-chair puffed out like a toad with his skinny legs dangling at the sides.

I paused for a while and contemplated.

''Thats alright sir! I've got the details about your presenting complaint already. Now lets move onto your drug history now...........''

He began a recitation of the list ''Prednisolone 5mg, Salbutamol prn, formeterol twice daily, beclametasone twice daily, losartan 50mg, aspirin 75mg......''

I was impressed, so Mr Toady did know his meds well. Most patients often don't know why they are on certain meds and forget how often and how much they should take them. I carried on my examination of his chest, and continued to hold in my breath in as I did so.

''You tap too hard missus,'' Mr Toady croaked. In the midst of percussing his back, the swinging motion of my fingers halted briefly as I turned towards him with a look of unmitigated skepticism. Yikes, I could have come across as too arrogant for my own good.

''Too hard for you Sir?,'' I forced a placid smile in a feeble attempt to conceal my surfacing exasperation and impatience at the thought of being confined to some urine-stinking ward on a sunny friday afternoon.

He gestured me over to look and then proceeded to tap his hairy sausage finger against the wooden tray table.

''Look at how I percuss.'' Tap, Tap, Tap

I raised my brows.

''You see girl, tap each time with increasing strength, and tap with a rhythm.........''

Ahh.....The Art of Percussion....
So it must be Dr Froggy then. Wah biang. This guy some more got style wan.

''Am I wrong to assume sir, that you are a doctor?'' I suddenly found myself intrigued by this quirky froggy gentlemen sitting in front of me.

''A retired GP,'' he smiled with a conspiratorial wink in his eyes. There was no hint of contemptuous deprecation in his tone.

So that was how it began with Dr Froggy, a nickname I chose for the sake of anonymity (in case he stumbles onto this blog and sues me for slander or defamation!). He shared his life story with me, how it was full of ironies. As a physician he smoked but advised his patients not to. A doctor who admonished heavy drinking, but gave in to alcoholic indulgences while he partied during his youth. A hypocritical prick who picked on his obese patients mercilessly while his own weight bordered over the limits of his ideal BMI. The highs and lows of being a simple GP. And truly like Kermit (the green frog), he was a humorous and unforgettable character. I became his sole audience for the rest of the friday afternoon.

Before I left, I asked Dr Froggy for an honest critical appraisal of my clinical history and examination skills.

''Percussion,'' he pointed out, as he slouched back into a reclined position on the arm chair. I grinned.

I took his cue and thanked him before I left.

So there his bullfrog impression remains, till the next patient I proceed onto tapping their backs, I shall remember Dr Froggy's words of advice.