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01.20.2003 - 6:04 p.m.
Monday
Today's visit to the doctor,
a lie:
As she entered the medical
building she was greeted almost instantly by a trio of willowy
nurses in flowing yellow robes who bore her through the hallways,
fussing and twittering about her. She was escorted to a warm,
richly painted room in hues of ruby and gold, where she was given
a soft cashmere wrap to wear. For the few moments that she waited,
the nurses cooed and laid aromatic cloths on her aching forehead,
and rubbed a soothing balm into her temples.
He strode into the room, his
white coats billowing behind him. He knelt at her side, looking
deep into her eyes, and traced one finger across her chest. She
opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her. I can help you,
he said softly. I know exactly what this is. He pressed a small
bottle containing 3 brightly colored small blue pills into her
hand. Take these tonight, and by morn you will be as new. He
lingered for a moment, gazing at her.
Before she could thank him,
he was gone from the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
The nurses swarmed around her again, smiling and laughing, and
took her back to the entrance, where she waved goodbye and walked
out into the sunlight.
Today's visit to the doctor,
the truth:
She waited in line at the front
desk. Although technically there was no one in front of her and
therefore it wasn't actually a line, there was a stern sign informing
her to wait several feet from the desk for 'patient privacy'.
The various people behind the desk chatted comfortable for several
minutes before one reluctantly beckoned to her.
Once her insurance was verified
(she was certain she would have been driven from the building
with flaming sticks had she forgotten her card), she was handed
a folder and told to go to a different part of the office. She
wound carefully through hallways, wishing she had brought some
crumbs to mark her trail.
Seated in the examining room,
she was asked why she was there. Well, she said, she'd had a
horrible cold since Christmas, and now she had started coughing
up a bunch of crud, and she just, you know, wanted to make sure
everything was in working order. She was told to strip from the
waist up and don a thin cotton robe.
She did this, and sat on the
table. During the 10349012485 minutes she sat there while waiting
for the doctor, she amused herself by trying to tie the rudely
gaping back of the robe shut. She also idly leafed through a
copy of both Parenting Today and Golf Digest.
The doctor finally entered
the room and asked her why she was there. She was beginning to
feel quite unwelcome, but she patiently reeled off what now sounded
like the whiniest complaint on the planet. He nodded, bored.
He had definitely heard this before, she felt. He peered in her
mouth and in her ears. He listened to her chest. Practically
stifling a yawn, he said to her that there was a lot of this
going around. I can't really do anything for you, he said. It
just has to run its course.
She was left to struggle out
of her robe, and tentatively wander the labyrinthine halls back
to the front door. She felt a little stupid. When she got to
her car she drove away quickly, as if hoping to avoid detection.
:::
This is only the third time
in my adult life I've gone to a doctor outside the scope of a
regular checkup. Years ago, I developed severe pain in my back
that made it a shrieking horror to sit down, stand up, bend over,
or do basically anything. When I finally went to the doctor,
she said something like "Well, welcome to the 80% of people
who experience lower back pain." And gave me a badly photocopied
sheet with some exercises printed on it.
The second time was with a
dermatologist a few months back about my rosacea. "Yes,
it tends to get worse as you approach your thirties", I
was told. "Avoid spicy foods, hot showers, the sun, and
alcohol."
Where are the magical DRUGS
that MAKE THE BAD STUFF GO AWAY? We can send people into space
but no one can get rid of the gobs of snot that are plaguing
my body?
Hmpt.
Goodness Gracious Great Gobs
O' Snot would be good name for a decongestant.
go back :::
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0
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004
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