I PAY A VISIT TO DR. STRANGEGLOVE

And as usual, it never goes quietly, or for that matter smoothly.

My appointment was for 11:00 AM, and when I arrived, there in front of me was all the senior citizens left in the world, to see the good doctor. I had that suspicion from the parking lot, which was strewn with poorly parked cars, and “Did I tell you about my grandkids?” stickers on them. This was a bad sign that meant Dr.Strangeglove was running behind, and I would have to wait a while.

I was told I needed to fast for the blood test, and that it is necessary, so I didn’t eat or drink anything but water before the visit.

As I entered the waiting room I go up to the lady sitting behind the desk, who without looking up knew who I was as she whipped out my folder of medical history, Volume III.

“Who should we contact if you should suddenly be rushed to the hospital?” This question caught me by surprise.

“Well…  uh, don’t you trust the doctor anymore?”

“We need to know this for emergency purposes.”

“My first inclination is to give you Dr. Strangeglove’s name.”

“No, we need a next of kin or close friend we can notify.”

I give him TLW (The Little Woman’s) office number and I go to sit down by navigating and negotiating the many canes that stick out from under the brand new jeans and sneakers, finally finding a seat next to the magazine pile of MD’s, and an article that states what you can make for breakfast as a diabetic. You get a blender and mix saw dust with 1% milk and call it a wooden smoothie, 0 calories and you burn even more trying to swallow the stuff.

About a half hour into the wait, a tiny little lady comes out behind a folder and says: “Is Bfrentolky here?”

Me: “Who?” hoping she can’t pronounce my name right and it’s me.\\

Mr. Bfrentolky, with a ‘s’?

Suddenly someone becomes liberated from his deep slumber and after 45 seconds is fully standing. Some old coot sitting in his new jeans and three pinky rings, two on one pinky and one on the other yells out: “I'm NEXT!” to no one’s surprise since he was next.

Finally another half hour turns on the clock and the little lady comes out once again:

“Joseph?”

I jump up and scan the room of those who still have a long way to go. I am next: I may be out of here in another hour! Good by you poor bastards!

I march to the examining room, taking care to watch for vindictive canes that can suddenly appear between your ankles as you proudly march out of the waiting room. Following the little woman I enter the room assigned to me and she says: “What are you here for?”

“Well, every three months I come for a checkup, but now I think it is running longer!”

“I’msorrythedoctorhaskeptyouwaitinggogetacupandgivemeaurinesampleafterIweightyou.”

I give her a sample of my finish, freshly brewed and still hot.

She takes my temperature (orally) and says:

“The doctor will be right with you”

The lying bitch!

45 minutes later in comes Dr. Strangeglove and asks me how I’m doing.

“I’m starving, I have a headache, and I’m even thirsty. THAT is how I’m doing.

He runs through his checklist and notices my blood pressure is slightly elevated, and not because I’m standing.

“Your blood pressure is slightly elevated! Are you experiencing any problems?”

I explain to him about Mom being sick and he says that “yes that would do it.”

Heading back to his office I carry my jacket and when we reach it I start putting it on.

“Cool enough for a jacket today, huh?”

“Well Doctor, when I started out it was still winter, and frankly I would like to get out of here before the next one sets in."