Is it odd that I have been to the doctor’s twice in the last few weeks? That’s more than I have been in like the last ten years. There’s nothing serious, just the typical things…but seriously, what is it? Perhaps my hatred towards medicine and hospitals has kept me away (although that doesn’t explain my [...]
Is it odd that I have been to the doctor’s twice in the last few weeks? That’s more than I have been in like the last ten years. There’s nothing serious, just the typical things…but seriously, what is it? Perhaps my hatred towards medicine and hospitals has kept me away (although that doesn’t explain my love for ER). Perhaps I’ve never had a reason to until now because I was a healthy kid and now I’m a sick, old man.
Either way you look at it, don’t you ever feel like you’re a sandwich or something? I mean, they pull this little sheet of butcher paper for you to lay on…like this modern defense mechanism is supposed to keep you away from the germs lurking beneath from the hundreds of sick people that have come before you. So there’s me, on this butcher paper…and the only thing missing is the pickle.