A Visit With The Doctor(s)

The doctor's office has always been of fascination to me; I am amazed and enthralled that advances in medicine, science, and technology allow the existence of the quality of life that we have. I have always had positive experiences with doctors, and a visit to them has never been a waste to me. Although I detest the fact that (typically) the only reason one needs to see a doctor is due to a problem that is occurring, they are still always fascinating and helpful visits. (-L-, is this better than your television program thus far? :) Tell me if you begin to get more patients due to the positive light I am shining upon physicians.)

My latest visit to the doctor was beneficial, as always, if not unique and slightly disturbing. Two circumstances occurred that are not typical in the archives of my doctor-visits memory.

1) I was overwhelmed by a terrible ratio of doctors to patients. There was the physician himself, and he was enough for me. A one to one ratio feels awkward enough as it is in a medical setting, without thousands of other examining eyes upon me. However, the doctor then introduced me to the nurse practitioner and a medical assistant of some sort. I was sitting on the infamous doctor's bed with the loud, crunchy paper on it (If you're only consulting a physician for information, why do they require you to sit on the bed? I was on a chair, like a normal human being, but the nurse asked me to get on the bed. I think it's a doctor's form of a dunce cap.) and they truly had me cornered. One stood to each side of me, and one directly in front of me. I gulped, not knowing what they wanted. As the doctor told me the entirely-too-many syllabic nature of my condition, the other two looked down at me with solemn nods, as if saying "we, too, have seen your fate..." If I would have had to take my shirt off for my diagnosis, it would have been an entire strip club in that one room. I would have felt more confident if there wasn't a large box of hypodermic needles to the side of the nurse practitioner who, I swear, was eyeing them with a look of evil in her eyes.

2) Before the physician ever enters the room, a nurse typically takes the pulse, tests for blood pressure, and asks some preliminary questions about the reason for visiting the doctor. This nurse skipped the heart/blood processes, but did ask me some questions. One of them was entirely unrelated to medicine at all. She said, "do you know who I am?" I couldn't guess, so finally she told me that she was the mother of one of my classmates, Hortencia, who I rarely see anymore. The nurse told me that Hortencia always thought that I was attractive and nice. The next sentence was the one that pinned me in the heart, however. Said the nurse, "Hortencia always loved you and David, and I always got you two mixed up. I never remembered which was which, but now that you're in my office, I'll always be able to distinguish between the two of you." For those of you who know me, David is the name that describes the male entity that has (unfortunately) been the object of my affection for over a year. For those of you who don't know me, David is the name that describes the male entity that has (unfortunately) been the object of my affection for over a year. (Why didn't I just copy and paste?) Obviously, much emotion is wrapped up in that name. I tried my hardest to keep from blushing (I didn't want rosacea diagnosed, as well), and I kept my thoughts to myself. But I wish to share them now. You know what I think about Hortencia? I think she has the best taste in men in the entire world.