I’ve had a fiberglass splinter in my finger for 3 weeks. It feels like a million Lillaputians are stabbing my flesh with blazing hot pokers. I finally carry myself to the doctor’s office bright and early at 7:30 ….. I’m promptly shoved in an exam room that is located approximately 750 miles from the waiting room and civilization. I swear a tumbleweed just blew down the hallway
There is a shower curtain door. The exam table isn’t normal. It’s a black plastic mattress on collapsable wheels. The kind you use to deliver bodies to the morgue.
Urine specimen cups would be excellent spice holders.
I just took the doctor’s rolling stool for a spin. Leave me unattended for 45 minutes and I’ma play with yo shit.
Practiced corpse pose on the exam table.
My stomach’s growling. I’ve searched all the drawers for lollipops. No luck. Have found tongue depressors. Ace bandages, KY jelly and magnum sized condoms.
Never leave your cell phone with your daughter in the waiting room because then you can’t take pictures to prove you just found a box of magnum sized condoms. I’m guessing they give women and children lollipops and fancy band-aids for their bravery at the doctor’s office. Maybe giant condoms are the man version of a Sponge Bob band-aid.
Or perhaps the doctor is having an affair with Dirk Diggler and they make a wild rumpus on this exam table. Maybe I’ll just sit on the stool again.
There’s a craftsman tool box in here. The tall kind you see at the mechanics. What tools do they need in here? Are they going to amputate my finger?
I spy shaving cream on the shelf. I’m starting to have serious doubts about what goes on back here. Orgy sex. Dismemberment. Maybe they offer a bonus Brazilian to every third patient.
80′s music leaks out of the hidden speakers. So if I’m attacked by a 2 ton gorilla wearing a magnum sized condom and waving a hacksaw – at least I’ll leave this world rocking out to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”.
The nurse has popped in. She has a few questions she says. When was my last period? Do I do regular breast exams? I remind her I’m here for my finger – holding up my red puffy digit. She ignores me. When was my last pap smear ? Was it normal? Again, I flash my finger – universal sign for my pap smear has nothing to do with my infected finger. If it did – well, I think I’d have bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that I apparently had been having unprotected sex with a 2 x 4. She grabs her file – please wait here she says just in case I was thinking about making a run for it after I’ve already been waiting here for an hour.
There’s a whole shelf of blue, backless gowns. According to the paper wrapping – these are “non-fenestrated”. I’m glad they spent the extra cash. I refuse to wear gown that’s been fenestrated all over.
“Nitrile Gloves give you a powder-free examination!” – in green font on the side of a box. Awesome! What every woman dreams of.
9:30 – The doctor has arrived! I just asked her to wait 2 seconds while I finish this sentence. She looks at her watch. Apparently she doesn’t like to be kept waiting. No worries though – I’m gonna give her one of those rhinoceros sized condoms for being so patient.