Doctor's visits are never a treat.
I dread the visit, and begin sweating in the waiting room.
The management team tries to calm patients by hanging “tranquil” waterfall posters and pictures of cute puppies, and clowns on the ceiling.
I hate clowns.
Did I put on enough deodorant, shave my legs and arm pits?
Am I wearing the “good underwear”?
They look in my ears, and I wonder, when did I clean them?
Will there be modest amounts of earwax or a miniature wax museum in there?
Examine my feet and green clouds rise in the room.
Why did I wear combat boots all day?
Circulatory and Muscular Systems medical posters line the walls- I have a hard enough time looking at my own body in the mirror.
Maybe I’d be more inspired to better health with posters of athletes in the buff…
Happier, yes. Inspired? Probably not.
Getting blood work done, or having my blood pressure measured is tricky with a new, long sleeve sweater.
“Why did I wear this?”
Now, I have to expose the whole arm and stomach bulges while someone becomes repulsed.
If I distract them with idol talk, and maybe they won’t notice…
More clown posters.
Finally, it's time for the dreaded annual physical.
With so much to see and touch, it’s obvious why I don’t have physicians as close friends.
I figure that after 3 months, the doctor’s memory will have faded, and I can look him in the eye again.
On the other hand, maybe I'll just wait until the next physical.
Have a great day. I'd love to hear from you at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Alright, bring on the clowns...