(You can also listen to this story here.)
Today Discount Storytime proudly introduces a true POS, that’s right, a POS or “Pioneer of Science”, and this particular POS is Dr. Buford Phelper. His amazing story began not in our current time of 2025, but hundreds of years ago in 1975. The team at Discount Storytime recovered his lost audio journals in a remote mountain cabin. And you, dear reader, are the first to read the audio transcripts. We go back to when Dr. Phelper was a young surgeon, on a very eventful day
Wednesday August 13th, 1975.
Today was a very eventful day. It all started off normally enough. I met with my first patient of the day, Mr. McArdle who was having routine hernia repair surgery.
I told Mr. McArdle, “So that is how hernia repair works, Mr. McArdle. What questions do you have for me?”
Mr. McArdle, a kind faced elderly man looked at me with trusting eyes and asked “will I be able to dance with my best girl at our 60th wedding anniversary party?” With that, he took Mrs. McArdle’s hand and they looked at each other tenderly.
It was such a touching sight. I said “Congratulations! Of course! Maybe not the Hustle or Electric Slide. Let’s keep it to slow dances, okay?”
They smiled and laughed, and Mrs. McArdle kissed her husband of 60 years before he was rolled to the operating room for a simple hernia repair.
Ten brutal hours later I walked out of the OR, my scrubs soaked in blood and tissue, to meet with Mrs. McArdle. My heart, light that morning, was indeed heavy. “Mrs. McArdle? Mrs. McArdle?”
Mrs. McArdle, frantic, rushed to me. “What is it doctor? How is my husband?”
“Maybe it’s best we talk somewhere else. ” I led Mrs. McArdle to the family consultation room. “Let’s go talk in the designated bad news room.”
“What is it? Please, tell me. Is my Archibald okay? His surgery has taken so long!”
I took a seat, blood and macerated tissue spilled off my scrubs onto the chair. “Well, hernia repair surgeries typically take around eighteen hours. I should have told you that before. But you should not worry, your husband is resting. “
“Oh, that’s great news!”
“By resting I mean resting in peace. He’s dead. He’s dead as a doornail. Dead- dead- D-E-D. Dead”
“What? What happened? You said this would be a routine procedure!”
“It was until I noticed your husband HAS some toe jam. Or I guess I should say Had, past tense.”
“Toe jam? Is that bad?”
“The mortality rate from toe jam, or Toe Jamalama Fatalis, is somewhere between zero and billions of lives. We had to amputate-“
“His toes?”
“No. Couldn’t take the chance that we wouldn’t get it all.”
“You amputated his foot? His knee? His leg?”
“His body. “
“You amputated his body?”
“Yes, Ma’am. We hacked his body to pieces. We had to really go at it too, he is, or he WAS, WAS one sturdy man.”
“Oh no! Did he feel, could he feel?”
“Everything? Oh, absolutely. Once we know a patient is going to die anyway, why throw money away on expensive anesthesia? He awoke screaming. I’m surprised you couldn’t hear his screams of agony. Your husband has a set of pipes, sorry, he HAD- HAD a set of pipes! Now his pipes are in a leaky trash bag.”
[Mrs. McArdle sobbing] “He sings in the church choir.”
“Sang, Mrs. McArdle…He Sang in the church choir. “
After comforting Mrs McArdle.. sorry… widow McArdle, I wondered. Was there anything else I could have done? Toe jamalama fatalis was killing so many of my patients. Could there be another way to remove the fuzz between toes? Other than hacking patients to tiny bits of quivering viscera?
Probably not, but I have to try. Starting today, I will focus my medical knowledge on better treatments for this deadly disease!
Saturday August 16, 1975.
I planned to spend my day in the hospital library reading everything I could about the treatment of Toe Jamalama Fatalis. But it only took a few minutes. There ain’t hardly nothing published in the literature about Toe Jamalama Fatalis. How can this be?
How can such a devastating illness go unaddressed?
I am deeply discouraged, but also motivated. This is an opportunity. Medicine will conquer Toe Jamalama Fatalis, and I’m the surgeon that’s gonna do it!
Tuesday, August 19th.
This evening I ran across some leftover “Blast-aholic” firecrackers from the Fourth of July and thought, am I looking at a treatment option?
It could work, it should work, dammit it must work if I’m to save my patients. But first, I have to test it.
And I shall test this experimental treatment on myself.
I am aware of the ethical conundrum of doing medical research on myself. I should, at minimum, test it first on orphans.
But ethics be damned, time is of the essence!
This is Experiment #1, I have retired to my garage, and carefully wedged the “blastaholic” firecracker in the interdigital space between my pinkie toe and ring toe of my left foot. Making sure there were no flammable objects nearby, I will ever so carefully light the fuse and [Firecracker explosion and screams]
The outcome of the experiment #1 is such: my pinkie toe is now laying in a puddle of blood and firecracker debris. Best I can tell the toe jam is somewhat gone, so I will call this a moderate success.
Experiment #2:
All good scientific experiments must be reproducible. Therefore, I have carefully placed a second blastaholic firecracker in the interdigital space between my pinkie toe and ring toe of my right foot. Making sure there were no flammable objects nearby, I ever so carefully light the fuse and… [Firecracker explosion and screams]
The outcome of experiment #2 matches experiment #1 and I now have two pinkie toes laying in puddles of blood and firecracker debris. Pretty sure there is still some toe jam in there, though.
Now that I think of it, and I have to admit I’m getting a bit woozy as I record this, setting off firecrackers in operating suites may have some safety concerns. I’m just going to lie down a little. I’m feeling [thump]
Friday, August 22nd, 1975
Experiment #3.
For this experiment, I will apply a more delicate approach, and use an electric router with a half-inch shank bit to remove toe jam.
Again, I am in my garage and have carefully taken my socks off, and folded and draped them over the back of my chair in the usual manner.
I’ll be working on the interdigital space between my burned ring toe and middle toe of my left foot, as my pinkie toes have disappeared. I suspect my cat, Waffles, hid my pinkie toes somewhere in the house. I cannot find them, but the smell in this Southern August heat is something terrible.
So, my router is plugged in with the half-inch bit. And I’m just going to [router sounds and screaming]
Okay, Okay. Um. That didn’t work either. So, it looks like…ugh.[panting], it cleared out a chunk of the toe jam, so I would call that a moderate success, but it also cut off most of my ring toe in the process. That toe is now hanging by a little flap of skin. Oh goddammit that hurts.
[cat meows] Hi Waffles, stay back kitty. Waffles, no. No Waffles, leave that ow ow ow! Waffles! Ow, stop pulling on my toe. Waffles!
You ripped it off! You ripped off my toe off, Waffles! Come back here with that! Bad kitty!
Again, maybe a success, but not quite the results I was hoping for. [Exhales] that’s a lot of blood on the floor. I’m feel kinda woozy. I may just [thump]
Monday, August 25th, 1975
Experiment #4
I admit I am feeling somewhat discouraged, but dammit, this is science. I will save my patients!
Also, I gotta find those missing toes my cat, Waffles, ran off with. I asked him about it, but he just stared at me.
For this experiment, I will use a similar approach to what my colleagues in dentistry are always pushing. Floss.
But, to get the desired results for treatment of Toe Jamalama Fatalis, I will replace weak and breakable dental floss with something more sturdy – straight line stainless steel razor wire.
And, as before. I am performing this experiment inside my garage. I have set everything out. And, as an extra precaution, closed the door to keep Waffles out.
There. Now. I have prepped the razor wire by first soaking it in hot sauce to lower the risk of infection.
I will now carefully thread the razor wire under the middle toe of my right foot, with it coming up on both sides. Now, for this procedure I will carefully, and I mean carefully, saw back and forth. There. This should work. This must work! Dammit my patients need this. Must clear the toe jam on both the medical and lateral sides of the middle toe.
Okay, that’s not too bad, got a little bit of toe jam off. But not nearly enough. I think in order to get the proper results. It will require a more vigorous sawing effort. [sawing sound, screaming and cursing]
Goddamit! I done sawed off my toe! That really hurts! Not just the physical pain…but the…I mean the physical pain is right up there. But the disappointment.
So, the outcome of this experiment is now my right middle toe is laying in a puddle of blood and my right ring toe is hanging on by a flap of skin and – [cat meows]
Waffles! How did you get in here? Leave that alone! Bring my middle toe back right now mister! Bad! Bad kitty!
At least I still have this one toe, just hanging there. Just hanging on- like ol’ doctor Phelper. Just hanging on. I guess I should try to – [cat meows] Scampers? That’s my neighbor’s cat, Scampers. Scampers! How did you get in here? Did Waffles let you in?
Scampers. Scampers No! No kitty! Leave that toe – stop pulling. Ow. Ow. Ow. Go. Shoo! Oh, you! Give that back! Give my ring toe back, Scampers! Bad kitty! I’m going to tell on you! I want that toe back, Scampers!
I just tried to stand and got real dizzy. Just gonna – [thump]
Saturday, August 30th, 1975.
I have taken a slower approach to my experiments, as I am running low on both blood and toes. And, dear journal, good fortune has smiled upon me this day!
I planned to try an experiment treatment using a hatchet covered in battery acid, but, as fate would have it, I was invited to a fundraising gala for Disco Pelvis Awareness.
The gala served the most wonderful dinner of sunflower seeds, corn on the cob, popcorn and a caramel taffy dessert. Afterwards, I had a lovely conversation with two gentlemen, both named Steve, from Cupertino, California. They’re working on a new sort of computer and asked if I would be interested in investing. Ha! No thank you! I’m smart with my money!
But one of the Steves, and I apologize as I cannot remember which, pulled out a most unusual device.
It was a stick, with bits of cotton at both ends. I believed he called it a “cotton swab.” He then began using this so called “cotton swab” to clean out the bits between his teeth. Much like flossing, but a lot classier at a gala event such as it was.
I asked him about it, and he said “Oh this? Yes. I use these while waiting for toothpicks to be invented. Care for one?”
”Am I?” I replied eagerly.
Eureka! I have found a prototype!
Now. In order to use it, I will first need to make some modifications. I am so excited! But I am excited and anemic, and may need to rest first.
Also, I still can’t find my toes. Waffles! Where are my toes? [cat meows]
Monday, August 32nd, 1975.
Experiment #5
I have high hopes for this so called, swab, with some modifications of course. I worry that the cotton on the swab is inadequate to scrape the toe jam off the skin surface, so I have added small pieces of broken glass into the cotton matrix. Additionally, I have soaked it in alcohol and rolled it in salt. Almost like a tequila shooter [laughs].
Well, here goes. I have. Again, locked and bolted my garage door closed to keep Waffles and other assorted cat delinquents out. I will apply the test device too, let’s see. Not much for choices here. How about the interdigital space between my left big toe and index toe?
Here goes nothing.
Hooo- hooo-boy that burns. But…but, so far the toes remain intact. Oh-oh-oh-ow-ow. I can see toe jam particles are loosening…and…
It worked! It worked! the treatment worked! I did it! I found a cure!
Narrator: And so, Dr. Buford Phelper discovered the treatment for Toe Jamalama Fatalis, and spread his new invention far and wide. Who knows how many lives were saved. No. Really. Who knows? Our last entry to play is from Dr. Phelper’s journal in 1978.
Saturday, December 9th, 1978
Well, it sure was an honor to be nominated for the Nobel Prize in Medicine. And I almost wold have won too. But I understand why they picked the winner. Dr. Hampshire’s research on the use of dynamite to clean earwax was ground breaking and I am glad to see her receive a posthumous award!
And it’s not like I done so bad for myself, after inventing the ‘piggy picks’ for the treatment of Toe Jamalama Fatalis. Sales have gone through the roof, allowing me to cut back on my busy work schedule, and heck, even travel and give lectures at conferences.
I can also finally afford those expensive harpsichord Waffles has been asking for.
Play us out Waffles! Bye bye y’all!
[Waffles plays a rocking tune on the harpsichord.]