SONG CHALLENGE WINNER!

The Song Challenge:   He's A Long, Tall Surgeon -- (Indianapolis, IN) A spokesperson for the MidWest Medical Center announced today that the hospital would remove all spittoons from its surgical intensive care unit, following complaints by patients. "This has all been a colossal misunderstanding, and we want to put it behind us", said hospital spokesman Henry O'Toole. According to O'Toole, the 19th century-style saliva receptacles had been placed in the intensive care unit by Dr. Nick Testa, a staff surgeon. Anonymous sources within the hospital described Dr. Testa's reputation as a surgical "cowboy", a part he had increasingly tried to play to the maximum. "First people were just referring to him as a 'cowboy' because he basically took anyone to the OR, no matter what their problem was", said the source. "Then about five years ago, he started wearing hand-tooled cowboy boots...OK, lots of surgeons do that." Apparently several staff were upset when Dr. Testa tried last month to operate on a patient wearing a Lone Ranger style mask, after earlier wearing a bandana pulled up over his handlebar moustache, instead of a standard surgical mask. "He was just yelling: 'This IS my mask, this IS my mask', when they tried to get him out of the OR", according to Sally Stevens, a MidWestern scrub nurse. Many staff members regarded as amusing Testa's practice of carrying his stethoscope in a holster, drawing it with a rapid motion when he intended to examine a patient. However, when Testa brought three large brass spittoons into the surgical intensive care unit, patients and their families began to complain. Testa's habit of chewing tobacco and spitting towards the spittoons reportedly became increasingly disruptive to intensive care unit staff, who frequently had to change intravenous lines and dressings when Testa missed his mark. According to O'Toole, Dr. Testa is currently on vacation in Montana, and so is unavailable for comment.


Mamas Don't Let Your Cowboys Grow Up to be Surgeons by Dharmabum

I went to the O.R.to have them do a procedure,
I laid on the table,they tried to gimme some gas,
But when I saw the look on the face of the surgeon,
I got up & ran I said "No thanks I think I will pass."

Instead of a gown, he wore a vest with a tin star,
On his side was a holster that he put his stethoscope in,
My concern was aroused when I looked behind his bandana,
& Saw that brown gooey liquid dribbling off of his chin.

Chorus:
Mams don't let your cowboys grow up to be surgeons,
Don't let 'em use scalpels & surgical stuff,
While chewin tabacky & snortin their snuff,
Mamas don't let your cowboys grow up to be surgeons,
Mak'em poke cows & drive pickup trucks,
They shouldn't drive Jags & Beemers & such.

He walked in the O.R his spurs was jingle & janglin,
On top of his head he wore a ten gallon hat,
His pants were all shiny from years of ridin the saddle,
While spinning his lasso he said"Now,where's my patient at."

The air had filled up with the odor of equine distinction,
His handlebar moustache barely would fit through the door,
I knew I must run,I knew my life was in danger,
When he lifted his mask & spit out his chaw on the floor.

Chorus:
Mamas don't let your cowboys grow up to be surgeons,
Don't let'em use scalpels & surgical stuff,
While chewin tabacky & snortin their snuff,
Mamas don't let you cowboys grow up to be surgeons,
Mak'em poke cows & drive pickup trucks,
They shouldn't drive Jags & Beemers & such.

Back to Top