Everybody Must Get Stoned
He was an average-looking kid, maybe 25, what statisticians might call “an outlier” — not quite strange enough to be bizarre, but definitely a bit “out there” — a little “goosey” in mannerisms, pleasant but slightly inappropriate in the things he laughed at, with his facial expressions, and with those other subliminal messages some call “body language.” Weed? Whatever.
I entered the exam room, to find him bobbing and tapping to the pulsing sounds emanating from his ear buds — audible only to him, shutting out the world around — while playing a game of chess on his iPhone.
Healthy kid, seemed bright enough. Had rolled into the ER a few weeks ago with a classic story: severe pain in the flank, blood in the urine, vomiting — a typical kidney stone. The ER got his pain under control, and sent him home.
“So, how are you feeling now?”
“Really good — I think I passed the stone.”
“How’d that go for you?”
“Well, I talked with my buddy, and he told me they use sound waves to break up kidney stones.”
“Yes, after a fashion…”
“So I decided to try that out.”
“… mmm, how’s that??”
“I went home, and turned up my subwoofer.”
Silence.
“Your … subwoofer? I … I don’t think that would do it…”
“Well, you’ve never heard my subwoofer!”
The stone was gone — resistance was futile. I sent him happily on his way.
But somehow I suspect I could have heard his subwoofer — if I had been within a 10 mile radius of his home, anyway…