Friday, January 23, 2015

                           
                                                    WHAT’S UP, DOC?


     Who wants to go to a doctor’s office in the midst of a flu epidemic? Pas moi! As I walked into his office at 8:00 this morning for a simple blood test, a man wearing a medical mask walked out past me. Oh, my. I figured I had avoided the “bug” long enough to jump into the sports car a couple days from now for our month-long trip to Florida. I have washed my hands raw and handi-wiped my paws until I look like an albino kitten. I just want to get through a few more days until we arrive safely at our destination. Then I thought to myself, “If this is a national epidemic, I can still catch it in Florida. Duh.” Somehow, I have this fantasy of sliding into our hotel “safe.”

     I sat in the extra room hoping no sick fool would plop his tush in my territory, but no. Some feckless old fart (probably my age) came right in and sat across from me. I could hear the guy in the main room sniffling, and all I could think of was getting out of there fast. Anyway, the old fart sat there boldly, obviously unconcerned about my anxiety. I made no eye contact, as I certainly was not interested in chit-chatting with a squatter.

     Music to my ears came quickly: “Sandra,” the woman called. I escaped faster than air can leave a football and hightailed it into the blood-letting room. I climbed into the chair just in time for the broad bloodsucking broad to let out a resonating sneeze. wtf. (That’s English for “Bon Sang!”) She claimed there was some perfume scent in the air that was causing her nasal distress. Yeah, right. Now I was going to have her perfumed germs on the rubber arm-strangler as well as jumping off her latex gloves. Joy.

     She proceeded to take my blood and cheerfully wish me a good day. I dashed past the old fart, the drippy-nose nerd and clambered into my car. Frantically searching for the Handi-Wipes, I removed the cotton-ball-bandaid from my punctured vein and wiped down my entire body. I even wiped down the steering wheel and door handle in case some of her scent snuck into my vehicle. 


     Home in less than an hour, I quickly prepared my breakfast as the “fast” was slowly starving me. I inhaled my protein “Os” and peanut butter-slathered banana while listening to the Today Show hosts discuss deflated balls. The encore to the morning’s drama came as I tripped going down the steps carrying my breakfast tray and fell on my ass. My pride is congested.