Rock with the doc

The other day my friend and doc Nitiraj called me for a party. Now since Nitiraj fixes me up every time I get busted up in squash and never charges me money if he’s liked the last article I I’ve written, I gladly accepted.
The moment I walked into the party, two things happened: first, a huge hailstorm began outside so it was impossible for me to leave, and second, I realised I was in the middle of a party of fifty doctors.That’s right, everyone in the party was a doctor except me. Since I couldn’t make a getaway, I stealthily made my way to the bar to meet my old friend Peter Scot.
When I reached the bar, suddenly a large man with lots of hair on his ears smiled and stuck out his hand, "Hullo, my name is Subba Rao, I’m a doctor and I specialise in Muscular Disorders." Taken completely by surprise, I shook his hand and said, "My name is Shiv Kullar, I’m a patient, and I specialise in having muscular pains." Immediately, he froze. "A patient, eh, take two disprin and call me in the morning." So saying he wandered off.
Ouch! I stood unsurely for a few seconds, then did what any self-respecting chap would do. Downed three whiskies neat. What the hell? I could risk it. Even if my body packed up, there were bound to be at least a dozen kidney specialists to save my life there and then.
Soon I was very high and happy, and feeling invincible with so much protection around. Somebody passed me by. "You have a bit of tomato sauce on your corpus maxillae," she said.
"And you have a lovely buttockus behindusae," I replied playfully. She blushed and moved on. Two more drinks and I was ready to play Doctor, too. There were three of them having an animated discussion near a pillar. "I feel that in most cases the culprit is the squama temporalis region," said one. "No," disagreed the other. "It invariably is the zigomaticum."
"Nonsense, Doctors," I said loudly." "That is totally outdated thinking. The answer is Brittany Spearilus." Feeling very happy with that I moved on. I must have been walking around very intelligently because someone put their hand out and said, "Hullo, my name is Doctor Sandeep Sindhu and I specialise in Entermetropy." I shook his hand back and said, "My name is Doctor Shiv Killer and I specialise in miscellaneousetropia and nonsensensopus."
That shut him up good. For the next half an hour I was a true doctorus smoothus. I went around freely dispensing prescriptions and advice. I cured cancer, typhoid and the common cold. From the corner of my eye I could see Doctor Nitiraj shadowing me, no doubt to end my Visiting Hours, but every time he came near I moved on. Finally I found myself face to face with Hairy Ears again. "Hah," I shouted, "It’s the disordely doctor." He tried to smile but it only looked like a muscular disorder.
"Tell me, Sir," I said to him." "Every time I’m near you I get a sharp pain in my neckus and assus. Why is that?" Smoke started coming out of his ears, but before I could enjoy the sight any further, Nitiraj had whisked me away. "Shiv, I’m going to ask you to leave because all the people here are my wife’s senior colleagues from Gangaram Hospital and I think you’ll single handedly create an ICU here, the way you’re going."
I left. But I have an urgent request for all of you. If you find me on the road, or for any reason I need attention in an emergency, please don’t take me to Gangaram Hospital. My chances of survival are not good there!