Trust Me, I'm Dr Ozzy
Nicola, East Finchley, London
I know how you feel: I was riding a motorcycle once with the visor up, and a bumblebee went down my throat. Not that it felt like a bumblebee, mind you—at the speed I was going, I thought I’d swallowed a fucking pigeon. People think that eating a bat is bad, but, believe me, inhaling a bee at 70mph is worse. The next day my epiglottis swelled up to three times it’s normal size and I had to get an injection. Now, that wouldn’t happen with a fly. But the big problem with a fly is, you know it hasn’t being doing anything pleasant lately: it certainly ain’t been down the local spa, drinking honeysuckle tea. Flies eat turdburgers and bathe in their own throw-up. But don’t freak out too much. Remember, cats eat flies all the time, and it never seems to do them any harm. So give it a few days, and if you feel okay, you’ve probably got the all-clear.
G.
Germs (Public Loos)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
What’s the point in washing your hands in a public loo if you have to open the door on the way out using a handle that’s been touched by hundreds or thousands of other people who didn’t wash their hands? I’ve tried getting around the problem by pulling my sleeve over my hand when I touch the door, but that’s disgusting, too.
Chris, Newcastle
At last—I’ve found someone else who gets as freaked out about this as I do. I can’t fucking stand it: there you are, scrubbing your hands at the sink, but then to get out of the bog you have to grab a handle that the guy in front of you who didn’t bother to scrub up has already used. I mean, let’s face it, the average door knob in a public toilet has seen more dick than a Turkish knocking shop. Like you, I’ve also tried using my sleeve—but all you’re doing is putting the germs somewhere else. I get so wound-up about it, I’ve been known to rip the entire roll of paper towel off the wall and use that. But the point is, you shouldn’t have to—they should make the doors in public toilets swing OUT, so you can open them with your foot. It ain’t fucking rocket science. That way, you go in there, wash your hands, do your business, wash your hands again, then you’re on your way, germ-free. If I were Prime Minister, this would be my first law.
Dear Dr. Ozzy,
Regarding unhygienic door handles: I’ve come up with a design (patent pending) for a new kind of germ-free knob—when squeezed, it releases a dab of antiseptic liquid into your palm. Might this solve the problem?*
Tranquility, Oxford
As long as I didn’t end up with a hand like a snail’s arse for the rest of the day, then yes. (Maybe the antiseptic stuff could be a spirit, so it evaporates?)
DR. OZZY’S SURGERY NOTICEBOARD
The Trouble with Dirty Knobs
Judging by the number of e-mails I keep getting about germ-covered door handles, I obviously ain’t the only one who has a serious bee up my arse on this issue. James in Aberdeen says the solution is “mind-numbingly obvious: automatic doors. They should be law.” (I 1,000 per cent agree). Meanwhile, Mike in Glasgow says doors aren’t even necessary: “You just need an L-shaped entrance, so passing perverts can’t peek.” Pete in Merseyside has more practical advice—“Always use your pinkie to open lav doors: you’re unlikely to ever put your smallest finger in your mouth.” (Unless your name happens to be Dr. Evil, Pete). Alternatively, Marion from Aberystwyth says the trick is to “grab a few sheets of toilet roll to protect your hands when opening the door, then dispose of them when you’re done.” She also suggests: “Disposable gloves should be provided in vending machines as you enter the bathroom.” Special thanks go to Gill in Cornwall, who did a Miss Marple and counted every single bloke who entered and exited the public bog at Cartgate picnic area in Somerset, England, over the course of the weekend, then e-mailed me the results (it was a long e-mail). “Judging by the length of time they took inside, none of them washed and dried their hands—because using the apparatus to do that takes about five minutes!” she concluded. This is the reason why people like me, who actually use the sink, get so pissed off: what’s the point of washing and drying if you’ve then got to touch something that’s got the germs of a thousand dicks on it? Finally, John from Bristol got in touch to argue (as I’ve also done) that building regulations need to be re-written, making it law that public toilet doors are hung the other way around. That way, our feet can do all the dirty work. David Cameron, are you listening…
Helpful Diagram: Hygienic Door Handle
© 2010 Tranquility Johnson (used with permission)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
What do you make of this craze for using hand-sanitizers obsessively throughout the day? I mention it because I had to shake someone’s hand at the beginning of a business meeting recently and they hadn’t got rid of all the lotion, so I was left with a sticky palm. I found the whole thing quite offensive, to be honest with you.
Eamon, Limerick, Ireland
Funnily enough, a similar thing happened to me the other day with Joan Collins in the lift of my apartment building in Los Angeles. I went to shake her hand, and she said, “Oh no, Ozzy, I can’t get sick.” Mind you, I can understand the worry: I’m a singer, so if I get a cold on the road, shows can get cancelled and livelihoods are at stake. That’s why I use cleanser myself every so often when I’m doing promo. Having said that, I’ve never given anyone a slimer, and if anyone gave one to me, they wouldn’t forget about it in a hurry. I mean, how did you even know it was lotion on the guy’s hand? For all you know he might have just knocked one out under his desk. Personally, I would have said to him, “What’s the f***’s this?”—then wiped it off on his tie.
Gilberts (Proper Disposal Of)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
When I clear my throat, is it ever okay to spit? I hate swallowing, even though I know it’s harmless.
Glenn, Birmingham
Depends. If you’re a professional footballer, it would be rude not to. If on the other hand you’re in the middle of a business lunch, and everyone’s drinking tea and eating little finger sandwiches, then no, it ain’t a very good idea to start coughing up a massive Gilbert.
Golf Balls (Death By)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My husband wants to buy a holiday home in a “gated community” on a golf course, but I’m afraid of being killed by a stray ball. He says I’m being paranoid. Am I?
Liz, Surrey
You ain’t being paranoid. When I lived in Palm Springs, Gerald Ford used to hit someone with a golf ball just about every other week. He might have hit me for all I know: I was drinking so much, I wouldn’t have noticed anything smaller than a flying sledgehammer. It became a standing joke after a while: you weren’t a real local until you had a signed letter from the President, apologising for the shiner on your forehead. Not that golf balls are harmless, mind you: they’re as hard as rocks and travel at over 100mph—so yeah, they can kill you if you’re unlucky. But you have to be very unlucky.
H.
Hair (Self-Removal Of)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
For over a year I’ve been literally tearing out my hair. It started at a time when I was under immense stress, but I haven’t stopped. I’m aware that it can be described as a mental condition—“trichotillomania”—but I think of it more as an addiction. As someone who’s defeated his own vices, your wisdom would be greatly appreciated.
Eric, York
No-one’s ever fucking happy, are they? Half the time I’m answering questions from blokes who’d swap their right arm for a few more follicles, and then here you are, ripping them all out of your own free will. Seriously, though, you should really talk to someone about this—a shrink or at the very least your GP—asap. I mean, yeah, you can call it a habit, or an addiction, or whatever, but the bottom line is that you’re harming yourself, and that’s heavy duty. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the rug-tugging was a symptom of some other issues you’ve got going on, and if you get some treatment now, you’ll probably save yourself a lot of trouble and heartache later on. One thing to maybe ask your doc about is a course of “hab
it reversal training.” From what I understand, it doesn’t involve any actual medication, but it can be very effective.
Headbanging (Complications Of)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Your column has inspired me to go through my old Black Sabbath collection, but now I have severe bruising on my forehead and an intense ringing in my ears. What’s wrong with me?
Simon, Perth, Australia
It’s called being a headbanger, Simon. When people first started doing it in the early 1970s, working class guys like me had never had a way of expressing themselves before, and they got carried away. One guy headbanged all night at a Motörhead concert with his head literally inside a speaker cabinet—it give him a fatal brain hemorrhage. The thing to realise is that headbanging is just like another exercise: the first time you do it, you’re really sore the next day. You’ve just got to start slowly and keep it up, gradually working yer way up to match fitness. So next time, before putting your Black Sabbath records on, try doing 20 headbangs every morning for a few weeks in advance.
That should help.
Dear Dr. Ozzy,
I’m 19 years old and have rheumatoid arthritis and ankylosing spondylitis (the same back disease that Mick Mars from Mötley Crüe has). I love headbanging, but can barely move when the adrenaline wears off. Any tips for muscle pain relief?
Karl, USA
I really hate to say this, but why don’t you hold back on the headbanging for a bit? I mean, I know Mick, and I know how painful that condition can be. You’ve got to accommodate what your body can do. People can enjoy music in all kinds of different ways. What amazes me is that I often get deaf people coming to my gigs: they can’t hear the lyrics, but they can get into the rhythm. So my advice to you is to keep going to the shows, but get into the vibe in a way that doesn’t involve the mosh pit. It ain’t worth the agony, man, and I certainly wouldn’t recommend popping any heavy-duty pain pills—unless your doctor says you should—as they can be horrendously addictive.
Head Cold (Flying With)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
The other day I flew to a conference with a “head cold,” thinking the change in pressure might clear out my ears. Instead it felt as though my brain was about to explode, and when we finally landed—after what seemed like years—I was deaf on one side (still am). Help…
Lisa, Reading
This ain’t much use to you now, Lisa, but you should never fly with a really bad head cold, ’cos you can burst your eardrums. So, in the future, do the opposite of what you did. Rent a car, take a boat—swim, if you have to. But don’t get on a plane. I’ve heard that you also can buy these plug things that help regulate the pressure, but the trouble is, you’ve gotta trust yourself to be able to use them properly, and personally I have trouble getting my telly to work, never mind trying to put some microscopic shield in my ear. In the meantime, you need to get checked out by a doc, ’cos you might have done yourself some damage. It’s too important to wait and see if it heals by itself.
Hernia (Lump Caused By)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I have a hiatus hernia which I’ve been treating for a few years with Gaviscon tablets, without much improvement. What really bothers me, however, is the lump—a small, circular ball on my navel. Any ideas on how to get rid of this unsightly bulge?
“Mike,” Harrow
A friend of mine had the same thing, and unfortunately you can’t just tap it a couple of times with a hammer to pop it back in—you need surgery. But this is something you have to get checked out by your doc, ’cos it might be more (or less) complicated than you think.
I.
Insect Bites
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
On Tuesday I was cutting bushes in my yard when I accidentally made contact with a bee’s nest and was attacked. I only got stung once before I dove into my pool. Two days later, my leg is twice the size it once was. What’s wrong with me?
Chris, Danvers, Massachusetts
I once had a keyboard player who had to call for an ambulance if he got stung by a bee. The fact is, some people are a lot more allergic to stings than others, and it sounds like you’re having a very nasty reaction. Get it seen to immediately. Hop to the ER if necessary.
J.
Jimmy Legs (A.K.A. Restless Legs)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I suffer from “Jimmy legs,” also known as restless leg syndrome. My legs shake and move about in the night, and it’s driving my wife mad. Any ideas how I can put a stop to this?
Mick, West Midlands
I have exactly the same problem—and so does my wife, Sharon. We’re like pair of pneumatic drills, jiggling and wobbling away under the sheets, making the floorboards rattle. My leg has a mind of its own. It goes all over the place. Even when I’m sitting down on the sofa, it’s bouncing around like I’m in the back of a rickshaw on a bumpy road. It’s one of the reasons why I can’t stay still for more than a few minutes. In terms of treatment, you can get medication for Jimmy legs, but it’s a form of benzodiazepine—the same thing as Valium—and I spent decades trying to get off that shit, and I don’t want to go back to it. Maybe it’s something you could try, if you don’t have a history with that drug. Personally, I’ve decided to live with the condition. I mean, it’s not like it’s painful. It’s just irritating—and it wears out the bed springs pretty quick.
DR. OZZY’S SURGERY NOTICEBOARD
The Battle of Bouncing Knee
I always crap myself when a real doctor writes to me, ’cos I think I’m about to get a bollocking. Most of the time, though, they just have a helpful suggestion. For example, Dr. Geoff, a retired GP from St. Ives, sent me an e-mail to say that “small doses of anti-parkinsonian drugs such as Pramipexole [Mirapexin]” can help cure your restless legs (you should ALWAYS talk to your own GP before trying ANY kind of treatment). Meanwhile, other readers said that mineral salts, magnesium, Crampex tablets, and putting a tablet of toilet soap under the bed sheets can do some good. They also say you should avoid peppermint, mouthwash, and raspberries. How anyone could prove that is beyond me.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Thanks to a suggestion by one of your readers the other week, I’ve been prescribed an anti-parkinsonian drug for my restless leg syndrome—but when I looked online, I found that the side-effects might include “intense urges to gamble” and “increased sexual urges (hypersexuality).” Should I throw the pills in the bin?
David, Buckinghamshire
… and you’re worried about this? The label might as well say, “side-effects including having a good time.” In all seriousness, though—there’s no point in curing your restless legs only to blow your life savings in Las Vegas on blackjack and hookers. Talk to your GP.
K.
King’s Speech Technique (Stuttering)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
As a self-confessed stutterer, have you ever gone through any of the treatments shown in the film The King’s Speech, like putting marbles in your mouth, or reciting Shakespeare while wearing headphones? Do you think a stutter can be cured?
Kim, Santa Barbara, California
I don’t know if a stutter can be cured, but I can tell you how to get one—drink and do drugs for 40 years. Believe me, getting to end of a single sentence is a major achievement when you’re on your second bottle of cognac and third speedball before breakfast. To answer the first part of your question, though: no, I’ve never had speech lessons—although I did once get hypnotised by Paul McKenna when I was trying to change my lifestyle. The trouble was, I was blasted at the time, so it’s hard to say if I was hypnotised, or if I just passed out, which was a daily occurrence in those days. As for my stutter, it’s been a lot better since I sobered up, and I’ve realised that it’s usually brought on by anxiety. When I’m nervous about something, my mind spins faster than my mouth can catch up, so I end up sounding like a World War II machine gun. By taking a deep breath and slowing down a bit, I can usually keep it under control.
L.
Lead (Po
isoning)
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I’m currently renovating my family’s Georgian townhouse and have just come across a government leaflet about lead paint. Now I’m terrified that every little thing I do will create poisonous dust that will brain-damage my toddler and pregnant wife. Please help.
Ryan, Edinburgh
A lot of people might not take this kind of thing very seriously, but I had a cousin who was an industrial painter, and he got asbestosis. So if I were you, I’d be wearing a rubber suit and a gas mask in the house. I mean, yeah, people my age grew up eating more lead paint chips than they did French fries, but that doesn’t make it any less dangerous. Kids also used to ride in cars without seatbelts while their parents smoked themselves blue in the face with the windows closed: it doesn’t mean we should do it now. Call your local council, ask them what the right procedure is, and follow it. Meanwhile, if you’ve already started to sand the woodwork, send your wife and toddler to the in-laws until the job’s all done and you’ve been given the all-clear by a qualified inspector.
DR. OZZY’S SURGERY NOTICEBOARD
Heavy Metal Madness
Tristan Olivier from the Lead Paint Safety Association tells me that local councils might not be much help when it comes to advice on handling toxic dust in old houses (see Ryan from Edinburgh, above). “Given the extent to which childhood lead exposure is linked to reduced IQ, learning and behaviour problems, this is probably the biggest, least known and worst addressed public health issue in the UK,” he says. For more info, visit the LPSA’s website, at www.lipsa.org.uk.