Saturday, August 09, 2008

THE ANNUAL CHECKUP


Or Doctor, Is That You?

Today is the big day. I see Dr. Hauer for my yearly checkup.

In his aptly termed “Waiting Room”, I sit and wait. Then I wait some more. While I’m at it, I survey those waiting ahead of me. Those who came in clean-shaven now sport a nice little growth, both men and women.

Reading the magazine articles: President Carter’s upcoming State of the Union Speech, I look up at the TV that is blaring loudly with conversations between Kelly Ripa and Regis Philbin, my attention shifts to the conversations I can’t help but overhear on the phone by the nurses, and receptionist.

“No Dear, the Doctor only does that in rear emergencies.”

“As soon as the Doctor is done with his patient, I’ll ask him to give you a call.”

Suddenly the parade of drug salespeople starts to pass before me. Sample suitcases and quick acknowledgements by the desk allow for immediate passage through the portals of healing.

It is getting near lunchtime, I’m starving, and the office staff lunch arrives! Catered!” I plot my move. How do I get some of that while no one is looking?

Finally, the young nurse who started her day just out of nursing school, is planning her retirement when she mangles my last name.
I rise, I once again survey all who have followed me, and follow her.

She weights me, screwing up royally and says: “Take this cup and go into that room and when you are done go into room #3.”

I go into the room, fill the cup, (I don’t want them to dip too far into it,) and leave it on the counter in room #3. Up on the table I go, the nurse sticking a thermometer in my mouth, checks the cup to see if it needs chlorine or an alkalinity boost and leaves me alone, closing the door behind her.

And so, I wait some more. I start to think. Do I have cancer, a heart attack coming on, maybe even a tropical disease? Is my insurance up to date, did the doctor get the new method of prostate exams yet, or are we going to do THAT again? Will TLW (The Little Woman) remarry again? I better tell her to leave my Brooklyn Dodger memorabilia in my coffin with me, and oh, don’t forget; I want my Brooklyn Dodger hat on.

Tomorrow: The News.

THIS IS DELBLOGGOLO POST #800!

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