Twilight Zone, The phone Call...Unfortunately it's not a prank

In the 1960s, Rod Serling came to my house each week. He took me, along with millions of other Americans, to a place he called The Twilight Zone. His television show, for which he wrote and hosted, featured half-hour stories with strange and bizarre endings. Many years later, Mr. Serling's format for entertainment was revised into a somewhat different form. It was called Twilight Zone, The Movie.

To this day, I still enjoy a crazy ending. Luckily, we have an occasional occurrence in my office that satisfies this craving. We call it Twilight Zone, The Phone Call.

My last conversation with Mr. Dubious serves as a perfect example. "Doctor, I'm concerned about my cats," he said. "Snorty has a bad cold. His nose is stuffy, and he won't eat. I thought those vaccinations that you veterinarians recommend were supposed to prevent stuff like this."

I explained that annual vaccinations might not protect against every type of virus. Although Snorty had respiratory symptoms, they could have been much worse without the vaccination.

"That doesn't make any sense to me," he argued. "What you're saying is that those shots didn't protect Snorty. I suppose that means this could spread to my other cats. If the vaccines aren't effective, you veterinarians should warn people before they spend all that money for something that doesn't work."

A glance at the records revealed that we had never given any vaccines to his cats. Foolishly, I mentioned this to Mr. Dubious. "Your records wouldn't show it, of course," he said, "but we give them the vaccines at home. We get them through the mail from the Polyp & Carbuncle Catalog. We don't know how to give shots though, and my wife read all about those tumors that vaccines cause. So, we just squirt the vaccine in their mouths."

It was later that same day when another wacky ending phone call came in. Miss Nomer was called to clarify my instructions concerning her cat's diet.

"He is absolutely, positively not allowed to have any seafood," I emphatically told her. "Check the ingredients on the back of the label when you buy canned food because he can't have any seafood, even if it isn't the main ingredient."

"I understand perfectly, doctor," she said. "I just have one question: Is he allowed to have fish? You know, most people don't consider fish to be a seafood."

I was tempted to point out that although it may not be considered seafood on her planet, here on earth fish does tend to fall into that category. It was easier to just change my recommendation to exclude both fish and seafood from the diet.

These episodes of Twilight Zone, The Phone Call happen just frequently enough to keep practice interesting. Rarely, however, do they occur twice in one day like these two did. In fact, part of the fun is that you never know when the next one will occur.

Allow me one more example. It happened several years ago when Ann Biguous called about her dog, Puddin.

"He has diarrhea again," she announced. "He feels bad and hasn't eaten for two days. Can I try giving him some milk? Wouldn't that help to give him both fluid and nourishment?"

I explained that milk might not be the best thing to give during an episode of diarrhea.

But doctor, he has to eat something, and he won't touch his regular food. Milk might be just the thing to get him feeling better," she said.

Against my better judgment, I gave in and told her that she could try offering him some milk to see if she could get his appetite started. "Oh, that won't do any good," she retorted. "Puddin hates milk."

There are of course, many other examples of strange phone calls from my career, and I'm sure yours as well. They lead us to this simple conclusion: Back in the '60s, Rod Serling may have been the master of the tricky ending, but if he were alive today, he'd have to take a back seat to many of our clients.