Garry Sellers
So now they tell us this is the biggest California drought in probably 500 to 1000 years. What, did they ask a passing Sequoia or something?
Speaking of ancient, I had my annual physical last week and I'm not at all a happy. Oh, I know at this stage we all have this or that wrong with us, some of us dealing with more serious issues than others. A completely pain-free day may be a thing of the past. Knees, hips, shoulders, backs just don't seem to always cooperate. Things that fall on the floor may stay there a bit longer than they use to since somebody moved all floors so much further away from my hands.
So what? But do I also have to be insulted by medical staff?
At my physical a rather short, portly nurse entered the room (portly meaning she's fatter than me ... nah nah n nah nah!) and barks at me to get on the scale (which is cleverly disguised in kilograms and I don't have my calculator with me so I can't contest what she writes down!). "Can I take off my shoes?" "NO!" Tubby disgustedly retorts. Well heck, everybody knows those scales in doctor's offices are miscalibrated from constant misuse. Think of all the lardballs who pounced on it before me! To add the weight of my 20 pound Topsiders doesn't seem fair, does it?
"Okay, go stand up against the wall there so I can get your height.", snaps Miss Insensitivity. Centimeters ... of course! Let's see 2.54 into .... "Six feet two and a half inches" mumbles Miss Personality. "Oh wow! That's almost exactly what I was in high school." She gives me a look of incredulity. "Really?" she whines. "Well, I did have my shoes on." OMG ... I wish I had a blood pressure cup on her at the time! "TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF AND LET'S DO THIS AGAIN!"
Well damn, you can't have it both ways Baby! You get the shoes both ways or no shoes both ways. What, is it your belief that the world should be filled with short, fat old men not unlike yourself (not that I'm questioning her sexual identity but then again ... )? Heck, we men can do that all by ourselves without your lying ways Stumpy!
Blood pressure. I think she added a couple extra pumps just to see how many blood vessels I have in my hand ... not that my hands don't normally look like a road map of the national highway system anyway! How does that happen? She had those purple babies about to burst! "108 over 70" she mumbles looking at me through squinting, accusatory eyes as if I have somehow tampered with her equipment. I just stare back with a smirk of self-righteousness.
"Okay, put this gown on, opening in the back." Gown? Really? Is that a joke or what? Would you go to a prom in one of those "gowns"? I think not. Who invented those damn things ... and did she intentionally give me a ladies gown? I know she left me to put on that flimsy thing, turned down the thermostat to the temperature to where they chill stethoscopes, went on lunch break and told the doc I was ready when she returned a few hours later.
Thankfully I see a doc with an international reputation for both his medical expertise as well as his medical team organizational skills. Fortunately, he is not intimidated by Nurse Hazard. His prognosis was that with a little bit of luck I'd probably live to see another physical next year. He did suggest however, that I lose 20 pounds and work on my stretching exercises! See? I rest my case! Shoes or no shoes, either one or the other! Little did he know what was lurking outside the door making notes for next year!
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