Monday, May 23, 2011

Is There a Doctor in the House?

A visit to the doctor's office can be a stressful time when you aren't feeling well and worried about a health issue.One needs a pleasant atmosphere to mentally prepare for the face to face time with one's medical professional. Slowing down one's metabolism, mentally setting aside other issues and reviewing the list of questions one has for the doctor are all good ways to get into the spirit of the appointment. Just the other day I had to visit a new doctor.
Here is how the appointment went:


First, my GPS lied to me (again). I should have known that the alley it told me to turn down was not Tulip Blvd. But thinking perhaps it was a shortcut, I proceeded. I started to get a bit suspicious, however, when I got a text from the crack ho' walking along beside my car. Have you ever tried backing up at 40 mph?


Half an hour after my scheduled appointment time I finally found the correct address. Parking was a bear, so I ended up 4 blocks away and paid a kid leaning on a grocery cart $20 to keep an eye on my car. He got a bit snippy when I wouldn't give him my credit card number but I did let him make a copy of my license. Amazing how he hid that HP All-In-One under the junk in the cart. In exchange, I patted him down and tucked a couple baggies of hexagonal blue pills in my pocket as collateral. 


Holding my pepper spray in one hand I made my way unscathed to the medical building and looked up at the grimy windows. A scrawny cat slunk out of a nearby hedge and flapped its tail across my leg. The spot still itches.


I carefully negotiated the debris on the steps to find the door locked and a sign directing patients to the appropriate locations. It read:

Doctors Offices
Likker in the front
Poeker in the rear.

I went around back and climbed 3 rickety flights of stairs which were ok except for the urine smell and the stains on the walls. I took a Clorox wipe out of my bag and opened the office door.  


Nurse Surly sat behind a half open glass window munching a drumstick and sipping a beverage from a container in a small brown paper bag. The air reeked of Tabasco. As I approached she slid the food down, licked her fingers, and made the sign of the cross rapidly 5 times. 


"Youse late," she reprimanded, "Fill out dis here papers." She slapped a stack of greasy pages on the counter and slammed shut the glass window.

"May I have a pen?" I foolishly asked. "Never mind, I'll just prick my finger on one of the splinters in the railing outside. You'll need a blood sample anyow."

I turned to find a seat to begin my homework.  Only one seat was available in the yard sale reject chairs- between a "fragrant" older woman and a guy in coveralls. Against the other wall were two women in wheelchairs. As I began filling out the forms I overheard:


Wheelchair Woman 1 to Man in Coveralls: You from East Punty? *Squints*

Wheelchair Woman 2 to Wheel Chair Woman 1: He looks just like one of them Farkles, don't he? 


WC 1: I'd know that bobbing Adam's apple and tooth gap anywhere.

WC 2: And the Farkle cowlick says East Punty clearer than a Texaco map.


Coverall Guy: Yup- I'm Buster's kid. You must be Aheva and Porthena- my great grand step aunts from Cousin Sparkle's side. You know about her- Sparkle Farkle, the stewardess.


WC 2: I just knew it. He's got his Granpaw Lester's sideburns. Them apples don't fall far from the trees.


10 minutes later I was alone in the waiting room save for Chanel #5, now snoring gently with her head on my shoulder. Suddenly she snorted, shook her head and sat bolt upright. Gazing trustingly into my eyes she leaned closer and announced, "I have a rash on my ass."


Mama says," Be sure to get your annual physical."







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