Sometimes I think people in Britain don’t make enough use of the NHS, because they’re too busy complaining about it. But Americans—who’ll queue up outside a sports arena for three days just to go to a free clinic—can’t believe the deal we Brits get. I’ll never forget the first time I got an X-ray done in the US after my quad-bike crash. The doc came into the room, holding up my slide, and whistling through his teeth. “How much did all that cost you, huh?” he asked, seeing all the rods and bolts holding my neck and back together. “A couple of mill? Three, four? Are you still getting the bills?”
“Actually, it was free,” I told him. “I had the accident in England.”
I almost had to call for a nurse, he got such a shock.
If you’re a celebrity, mind you, medical care in America is just incredible. Too much so, if you’re an addict like me, because they’ll hand out pills like you’re in a shopping mall. Whenever I do a gig in the US, for example, I’ll always have a doctor check me out before the show, and in the bad old days, I’d score just about anything I wanted off those guys. At one point I basically just bought my own doctor and installed him in my house, salary and everything. It was magic until Sharon got wind of it. In England, I used to have to make up a backache, or hit myself over the head with a lump of wood, if I wanted to get a Vicodin. In America, all I had to do was say the word. It stopped only when the doctors realised that they had to answer to the Voice of God—ie, my wife.
“If you give him ONE more dodgy pill, you’ll be the one who needs a doctor,” she’d say.
To be fair to the American doctors, they do come up with some mind-blowing technology. I just had my eyes fixed with Crystalens surgery, for example. I’d suffered from cataracts for years, and my vision was so bad it was starting to give me problems on stage. So what they did was, they took out my natural lens—which was all fogged up—and replaced it with this bionic one, which can focus by itself. Left eye first, then the other a week later. It’s amazing. Just unbelievable. No pain, for starters. And now I can read again. I see over there, over here, it’s just fucking incredible. I’ve no idea how much it cost—probably eight tours, or something—but it’s changed my life, totally.
I’m a new man now, in so many ways. I might be 62, but I haven’t felt so young since the 1960s. Aside from my eyes, the other big change in my life is that I’ve pretty much become a vegetarian. Seriously. It’s my new phase: brown rice and vegetables. I don’t even drink milk, apart from a splash in my tea. And no, it ain’t because of the animals. I mean, I used to work in a slaughterhouse, killing 200 cows a day. I ate a bat, for fuck’s sake. You won’t see me marching over the frozen tundra, hunting down seal-clubbers. I just can’t digest meat anymore. I finally gave it up a few weeks ago, after I went out for a steak with my friend Zakk Wylde. I might as well have sealed my arse with cement, ’cos I couldn’t crap for a week. I love the taste of beef, but it ain’t worth it.
I ain’t into any of that organic bollocks, either. People think they’re buying another day on this earth when they pay for that stuff, so they get ripped off. If you want organic, grow your own, man. I used to when I was married to my first and we had a little cottage in Ranton, Staffordshire. A veggie patch also happens to be a great place to hide your stash of drugs. Having said that, I’d always get stoned and forget where I’d buried the stuff. One time, I spent a whole week down the garden, trying to find a lump of Afghan hash. The missus thought I was just really worried about my carrots.
I suppose when people hear stories like that, they might think I’m too much of a bad example to give advice. I wouldn’t argue—and I’d hate for anyone to think, “Oh, if Ozzy survived all that outrageous behaviour, then so can I.” But d’you know what? If people can learn from my stupid shit without having to repeat any of it; or if they can take some comfort from the crazy, fucked-up things my family has been through over the years; or if just hearing me talk about colonoscopies makes them less embarrassed about getting tested for colon cancer, that’s more than enough for me: Dr. Ozzy’s job will be done.
One last thing: being a hypochondriac, I would never tell someone to just stop worrying and/or come back later if their symptoms got any worse. That’s bollocks, in my book. As I’ve always warned my own doctors: “One day you’re gonna be standing at my graveside, and while the priest is reading out the eulogy, you’re gonna look down and see the inscription on my headstone. And it’s gonna say—‘ See? I TOLD you I was fucking ill!!’ ”
How to Cure (Almost) Anything
1
You’ll Never Be Ill Again… Probably
If there’s one thing I’ve learned as Dr. Ozzy, it’s that everyone wants to be cured immediately—or better yet, three days ago. Luckily for the people who come to me with their problems, I’m exactly the same way. I mean, why go to all the trouble of a low-carb diet, if you can get rid of your gut with a needle and a suction pump? Or why take it easy after an injury, when you can pop a few pain pills and carry on?
As far as I can tell, there’s only one drawback to quick fixes: THEY DON’T FUCKING WORK. Either that, or they sort out whatever’s bothering you, but create another ten problems along the way. Take sleeping pills. For years I had trouble getting any shut-eye, so I started using a popular brand of sleeping medication. Before I knew it, I’d forgotten everything since 1975. The trouble was, my body built up an immunity to the drugs so quickly, I ended up necking a whole jar of the stuff just to get five minutes of rest. That’s when my memory blackouts started, along with a bunch of other crazy side-effects, like wandering around the house stark naked at two in the morning.
What I should have done was find out why I wasn’t sleeping—maybe something was making me anxious—and gone after the cause, not the symptom. But it’s human nature, isn’t it? We’re all tempted by the cheap ’n’ easy botch job, even though we know it ain’t gonna last. That’s why I’ve dedicated this chapter to “instant” cures: urban myths, old wives’ tales, and unlikely stories I’ve picked up on the road… Some of them have worked for me in the past. Others are bullshit. I’ll let you decide which is which.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
What’s the best cure for a hangover, in your (considerable) experience?
Justin, London
This is an easy one: have another pint. You’ll be feeling much better in no time. It took me 40 years of trying everything and anything to make the morning-after feel better—short of actually giving up booze—until I finally realised that the only thing that ever worked was just to get shitfaced again. Like a lot of things, it was obvious in hindsight.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Help! I’ve got a cold. How can I get rid of it ASAP?
Tony, Boston
Funnily enough, getting loaded is also a great cure for the common cold. For example, I used to have this magic recipe for a “Hot Ozzy” (as I used to call it). You take two pints of whiskey, boil it up on the stove, add a bit of lemon—it’s very important, the lemon—then drink it as quickly as you can. Trust me: by the time you’ve downed a Hot Ozzy, you won’t just have forgotten you’re ill, you’ll have forgotten your own name.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I’ve been told that the easiest way to treat athlete’s foot is to pee on your toes—because the chemical in anti-fungal cream (urea) can also be found in urine. Does this work?
Pierre, Ipswich
I don’t know. Back in the eighties, though, I used to deal with athlete’s foot by pouring cocaine on my toes. They cut the stuff with so much foot powder in those days, it was the best treatment you could find if you had an outbreak on the road, away from your local chemist’s. The only problem was the price: it worked out at about three grand a toe. If I’d known about the peeing thing, I might have saved myself some cash.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
What’s the best way to get over jet-lag—quickly?
James, Toronto
They say that if you line the insides of your shoes with brown paper, it cures jet-lag. U
nfortunately, like a lot of things people say, it’s bollocks. In reality, there’s only thing that’ll stop your body clock getting messed up, and it’s called staying at fucking home.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
What’s the best cure for “seasonal affective disorder”? I get incredibly depressed every year before the clocks go forward, but I can’t afford to move to the Florida Keys.
Felicity, Doncaster
All you need is a bit of heat and light. If you can’t afford a plane ticket, I’m not sure what to suggest, apart from setting your house on fire—which obviously ain’t a very clever idea.
Dear Dr. Ozzy,
A doctor in Italy says he can cure cancer patients by giving them baking soda. What’s your opinion?
Chris (no address given)
A friend of mine got cancer a few years ago and didn’t want to go through any of the conventional treatments, so he spent months doing all the dead cat voodoo stuff—and now the poor bloke’s dead. Obviously, I ain’t gonna criticise anyone in that position, ’cos if you’ve been told you’ve only got weeks to live, you’re gonna do whatever you think you need to do. But baking power? You’re fixing a tumour, not a cupcake. Also, if it really worked, wouldn’t baking powder be in short supply by now? Personally, my rule of thumb is that if some whacky new treatment sounds too good to be true, it is.
Dear Dr. Ozzy,
According to my great-aunt, nine white raisins, soaked in one tablespoon of gin for two weeks, will get rid of arthritis. Is this right?
Phil, Luton
The Osbourne family has the same recipe, passed down through the generations. In our version, though, there’s only one white raisin, and it’s soaked in nine bottles of gin, for two minutes.
It’s great for pretty much anything.
DR. OZZY’S AMAZING MEDICAL MISCELLANY—
Crazy Cures Through the Ages
In Egypt, they reckon that being buried in the sand during the hottest part of the day can cure rheumatism, joint paint, and impotence. If you stay out there long enough without water, it can also cure being alive.
To treat a stuttering child, Chinese doctors used to recommend smacking the kid in the face—on a cloudy day. If anyone ever tried that on me, they’d get a knee in the balls, n-n-n-n-no matter what the fucking weather was.
The only anaesthetic in Medieval England was a potion made up of lettuce juice, gall from a castrated boar, briony, opium, hemlock juice, vinegar, and what passed for wine in those days. I’m pretty sure I had exactly the same cocktail in Miami while on the road with Mötley Crüe in 1984.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Have you ever suffered from heartburn, or acid indigestion? If so, what do you do about it?
Joan, Shropshire
Oh, I used to get this all the time—I’d wake up at three in the morning with a horrendous burning sensation in my chest. Then one night my bed caught fire, and I realised I’d been going to sleep every night with a lit cigarette in my hand. When I stopped doing that, the problem went away.
Dear Dr. Ozzy,
Please help me—I can’t stop scratching my testicles at night! It’s getting so bad, my wife is threatening to sleep in another room. And now I’ve noticed a red rash, which seems to be spreading to my wider nether regions. Is this “jock itch”?
Ted, Northumberland
Sounds like it to me. The first thing to do is change your underwear. Personally, I find that nylon Y-fronts give me a raging case of ball itch: it’s like they’re on fire, man. Now, I wouldn’t mention this to your missus (if you ever want her to go near you again), but it’s all to do with trapped sweat. So the next thing to do is get yourself some antifungal cream—the same stuff you’d use for athlete’s foot—and it should calm down in a few days.
Dear Dr. Ozzy,
Thanks to your medical wisdom I already know your cure for a cold—a Hot Ozzy—but what’s the best way to prevent one?
Lucy, Bristol
Your local drug store will sell you any old bollocks to “prevent” a cold—they must make a fortune out of virus season—but the fact is, you’ve just gotta ride it out. There’s no harm in having a Hot Ozzy or two as a precaution, though. If it does nothing else, it’ll make your day at work go by a lot faster.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
What’s the most effective treatment for the hiccups?
Lauren, Carlisle
Tony, New York
Extreme pain, combined with the element of surprise.
DR. OZZY’S INSANE-BUT-TRUE STORIES
The 430 Million Hiccup Man
The longest-ever attack of hiccups went on for 68 years—68 fucking years, man!—and was suffered by an American guy named Charles Osborne (no relation). It started in 1922, when he was weighing a hog for slaughter in Iowa, and didn’t stop until 1990. The worst thing is, he dropped dead from an ulcer only a year after he got better. The good news? His hiccups didn’t stop him getting on with his life: he managed to get hitched and have five kids (which proves that anyone can get laid, if they put their mind to it). He was even mentioned in Guinness World Records and Trivial Pursuit. Apparently, this guy hiccupped 40 times a minute in the early days, slowing down to “only” 20 times a minute as he got older. That works out at about 430 million hiccups over his entire life. It’s a good job I never sat next to this guy on a plane, or I’d have pushed him out of the emergency exit after five fucking minutes.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
What’s the best cure for snoring? I need something to shut up my husband, who sounds like a whale with a foghorn stuck in its throat, before I kick him downstairs to the sofa.
Jane, Acton
I used to share a room with a guy who had the worst snore in the world, I swear. One night, I got so fed up with him, I filled up a wastepaper basket with water, put it next to his bed, and told him, “One snore, and it’s going over yer head.” And y’know what? It cured him. Or at least he didn’t dare go to sleep until he was pretty fucking sure I’d already nodded off. Having said that, I’m a terrible snorer myself. So is Sharon. Our 17 dogs snore, too. When all of us are in action at the same time, our bedroom must sound like the London Nostril Choir. It’s never bothered me, though. I’m usually asleep.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Is it really true that chicken soup can help with congestion?
Rita, Germany
Yes—especially if you add gasoline. Seriously though, I’ve definitely heard that there’s a special chemical in chicken soup that breaks up all the gunk in your nose, making you breathe a bit easier… but in my experience it only lasts for as long as you’re eating the stuff. It’s more likely the heat of the food that gets the old snot running.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
What’s the best cure for depression?
“Peter,” County Armagh
It’s tempting to give you a funny response to this, but unfortunately depression ain’t funny: I’ve suffered from it myself. What I did—and what I recommend you do—is talk to your GP. Personally, I’m on a low dose of an anti-depressant called Zoloft (also known as sertraline), and it does the job. Of course, you hear a lot of people say that anti-depressants just put a sticking plaster on the problem, instead of solving the real cause. And they might have a point… but it’s very easy to say that if you ain’t fucking depressed. The only big problem for me with anti-depressants is that they ended my sex life. Trying to get down to some action these days is like trying to raise the Titanic. It would be depressing if I weren’t on anti-depressants. As it is, I don’t give a flying one.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Is it true that “onion syrup”—onions cooked with brown sugar or honey—can help with a cough?
Jamie, Madrid
No idea. I do know that if you eat enough onions, it’ll cure people from wanting to speak to you again.
Dr. Ozzy’s Trivia Quiz: Magic Medicine
Find the answers—and your score— here
1. Which musical instrument allegedly cures “sleep apnoea” (when
you don’t breathe properly at night)?
a) A kazoo
b) A didgeridoo
c) An Auto-Tune machine
2. What the fuck is “Peruvian Viagra”?
a) A squished frog
b) A well-trained hamster
c) A rare type of bean
3. The ancient Egyptians treated blindness with…
a) Tickling
b) Sunlight
c) Bat’s blood
4. Which “cure” for AIDS has actually helped spread the disease?
a) Bonking a virgin
b) Putting the condom on your big toe
c) Smothering your private parts in clarified butter
5. In the 1960s, psychiatrists treated alcoholics with…
a) Alcohol
b) LSD
c) Hospital-grade laxatives
CHAPTER NOTES: HOW TO CURE ANYTHING
SYMPTOM Severe Headache Sudden, excruciating bowel pain Baldness Stiff neck Blurred vision
Trust Me, I'm Dr Ozzy Page 2