02 September 2007

Doctor, Doctor

Today I'm not feeling too great. Mr. Coffee managed easily to hold down the fort, clean the kitchen, hand mop the floor, and make all of the meals. He also grocery shopped with two of our youngest children and brought me home coffee and flowers. To top it off, I had three loads of folded, clean laundry he had finished and had ready to put away. I don't know whether to shag him or scissor kick his head in a fit of jealousy.

I really hurt, so both kicking and shagging are out of the question. In fact, I'm hopped up on ibuprofen waiting for Monday to see my doctor. I have put off the doctor for reasons that I won't go into here but I'm pretty sure if someone stabbed me in the eye with an ice pick I still wouldn't go to the doctor. You can stuff brain matter right back in, can't you? I had four kids between 9 and 10 lbs for pete's sakes, this pain should be no problem.

It's not that I dislike seeing a doctor. I don't mind doing it, aside from handing over my firstborn as a down payment just to see the nurse. She always scowls as she scribbles my height and weight into the file.

Well, nurse, lets just hop right up and check your weight, you white-uniformed nurse Nazi.

If my doctor had to wait 45 minutes for me, I would be subjected to public flogging. They'd put me in a split-back gown and flog me while the staff laughed gratuitously at my flabby butt. They would then proceed taking wagers to see if I can take down their champion Lumberjack Nurse with my sweet ninja skills. She's scary and what's even more fun is she braids her armpit hair and has the biggest unibrow this side of the Ice Age.

When I see the doctor, they put me in a overcrowded bathroom-stall-sized waiting room for 45 minutes. This would be no problem, however, they would fully expect me to wait quietly with my children.

Have the MET me and my kids?

My children have ingrained in their DNA the uncanny ability to discovered that they own a 300 decibel voice. If the wait is exceptionally long, the kids grow bored very quickly and without notice, will turn on the office staff with requests. Suckers, paper, grenades, crayons, mallets, gum, handcuffs, pirate swords, Barbies...etc, and when refused, set about to shredding a 3 year old decrepit copy of some dumb magazine like, Foliage In The NW. The equally antique People Magazine announcing that Brad and Jen had gotten married would also suffer the same fate.

The waiting room must also contain several aforementioned children, one named something like Schylar or Douglas. Now this boy won't leave the fountain alone as he cycles up to 40 gallons of water through the drain. The boy's mother typically sits, never once looking up or backing her threats of, "If you don't stop that...". This mom will then proceed to call the boy's name 493 times before they finally go into an exam room for mom to be (one could only hope) sterilized to prevent further children.

I firmly sit my kids down amongst the broken crayons and pharmaceutical brand embossed post-its, where I would bribe them with ice cream. I can only sit and wait. Wait next to the full-grown adult that hacks away, oblivious of the "Cover Your Coughing Pie Hole" memo.

It's okay, it's only Bronchitis.

My children are finally subdued with promises of dairy delights in their future. They sit staring at the sleeping Veteran in the corner chair. They turn to me and ask why a wheelchair-bound woman has a giant yellow water balloon she's got hooked under the chair.

Finally, a nurse of what I believe to be closer to the female persuasion, complete with unibrow and smelling like patchouli is owning enormously freakish shoulders stuffed into a polyester white frock. She trots her orthopedic shoes over to me and asks loudly for me to follow her. She scares me, so I follow her to my room and wait for the doctor.

This is why I don't like going to the doctor. Enough said?

Who else has a doctor's office like this?

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"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."

~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe