Last Friday, I had an appointment with a new doctor. This is always a problem for me for numerous reasons. First and foremost, I hate doctors because of my past experiences with them. Secondly, I have to pay for everything. I lost my insurance in my last job because of the required ACA imposed on corporations. I worked for a small company which was already going under so my healthcare was axed followed by my employment. It wasn’t necessary for the owner to do this but even though I was very knowledgeable at my position, he despised me. Karma’s a bitch, they say, and it wasn’t long after I received my walking papers that he received a social call from the notorious reaper (which probably was followed by a close encounter with Lee the Tree but I guess I’ll know for sure once it’s my turn to travel to “the beyond.”) But, as they also say, “one closed door opens another one” and this resulted in my going back to school for my English degree. The third reason why I do not like doctors is interconnected to the first reason. Fear, at times, may create misconceptions which may develop into highly ridiculous misunderstandings about practically anything. Huh? Exactly! Let me explain.
Here is an example of what I’m trying to say: Just because the doctor has a common Oriental last name, you shouldn’t expect him to look like Fu Manchu or Hong Kong Phooey. Also, the person that draws your blood is not Nosferatu or a giant leech with breasts. In both of these cases, I was wrong but, as I was lying down on the examination table, I wondered why there were so many eye impressions on the office’s roof where blood is drawn. Better yet, why did they insist on drawing my blood while lying down? Simple! You don’t feel anything while you’re being drained from your blood supply. I had something else to worry about once I came to my senses thinking that the eyes belonged to concealed albino vampires lurking within the white popcorn roof. Momma Bloodsucker rolled in an electrocardiography machine and, suddenly, I had a past life regression (or an acid flashback) dealing with electroshock therapy at a castle’s dungeon in Avar Khanate which has to erred because Nikola Tesla was only eight years old when that country became history and the only thing shocking he had experienced at that point was watching a sixty-three foot crab emerge from the Great Sheffield Flood with binoculars anticipating the Battle of Elkin’s Ferry across the great pond. In a matter of seconds, my body was covered in electrodes which brought to mind the two weirdo kids in the dumbest Skittles commercial ever. Traditionally, the back ends of the electrodes are covered with gorilla glue which would explain the enigmatic roof décor. Once the technician crudely yanks off the electrodes from very hairy chested men, their eyes would jump out of their sockets and attach themselves to the roof thus leaving the impression. To my surprise, the process took about fifteen seconds and my extraocular muscles did not need to be put to the test.
Dr. Fu, I mean, Dr. Wong then walks in and begins his routine consisting of 156 questions followed by a grab and squeeze throughout my tense body. He kept on asking “does this hurt” but I had no pain anywhere. Next came the urine test. I was sent to a restroom which had a small door on the wall where you place your sample. I kept thinking the small door would open and an Allen Funt German clone’s head with a “Wim Wenders rule” tattoo across his brow would appear continuously shouting “Was ist das?” I was actually afraid to open the door and place the small bottle inside.
In conclusion, the doctor told me I was in perfect shape pending the blood and urine results which I should have late this week. This is outstanding news but it also makes me think that my prevalent problem is the yet undiagnosed ADHD and my exaggerated perception of things. That’s what happens to individuals who watch too many Monty Python animations as youngsters. Too late for me! It’s time for some “Lumberjack Spam in Seasoned Shrubberies” made from dead parrots and partial remains of Spiny Norman.