Do Instant-Read Thermometers Ever Work?

Thanksgiving.
I think the very word engenders fear and depression in most cooks.
See, Thanksgiving is a holiday that, whatever its roots, has become centered around food. But not just any food, no! A very specific menu is laid out in front of football-watching half drunk family members on the fourth Thursday of every November by home cooks in various states of exhaustion, stress and panic. And if, like me, your husband's mother is "the world's best and most amazing cook" (sorry about the air quotes, Suzanne. You really are a great cook, but I'm trying to build a rapport with my readers) your Thanksgiving must at least be similar to hers, and may not include the cornbread dressing you grew up on and love upon pain of death. (This is what happens when a Texan marries a Californian. It's like a culture clash.)
So this year I decided to ease away from my mother-in-law's traditional meal with a little help from Bon Appetit and Cooking Light. I made the Sage Butter Roasted Turkey with Cider Gravy and stuffed it with Sourdough Stuffing with Sausage, Apples and Golden Raisins, accompanied by Green Beans with Bacon, cranberry sauce with a dash of allspice and cinnamon, my mother's fantastic mashed potatoes and her also fantastic pumpkin pie cake.
So here's my question: Do instant-read thermometers ever work for anyone? This year, after two overcooked turkeys that registered cooked from two cheap thermometers in previous years, I put my foot down and insisted on a more expensive one, which I dutifully calibrated in boiling water. After about an hour and a half of cooking, my 16 pound, beautifully basted and burnished turkey registered 165 degrees! This is way too short, I thought to myself. But I inserted the thermometer repeatedly into every part of each thigh that could be considered "thickest", taking care not to hit bone, and still it kept telling me that this bird was done. So I took it out, removed the stuffing and heated it to a safe temperature, and made the gravy. By the way, if anyone ever has doubts about the flavor homemade turkey stock adds, you should stop those doubts right now. I made the homemade stock from the website, and oh man. This was the most flavorful, richest-tasting and most beautiful gravy I've ever had. I could have eaten it by the spoonful. (I know, that's gross. But it was that good.)
Okay, back to the turkey. As the carnivorous husband is carving it at the table, we noticed a somewhat alarming amount of pink-ish juices pouring from the turkey. Our guests got white meat (thank goodness), but I like the dark meat so I requested a bit of both. The white meat was wonderful; incredibly juicy and perfectly cooked. The dark meat, however, was like a turkey version of carpaccio. It was simply raw.
Everything else was great; the sourdough bread made the stuffing much more interesting than normal bread cube stuffing, and the sausage added a textural element that was a nice counterpoint to the chewy raisins and crisp-ish celery. The potatoes and gravy were the highlight; there was actually no gravy left over! I think I was the only one who really liked the cranberry sauce. The cinnamon and allspice made it taste like Christmas, but as my husband said, "Then why are we having it on Thanksgiving?" The green beans were all right, but next year I think I'll venture into the mysterious world of creamed brussel sprouts.
All in all, it was not a failed meal, but in the interest of not serving potential salmonella to my family next year, can someone please explain to me how to get a meat thermometer to work?