It’s official. I hate doctors. Now, true, I haven’t liked them in general for quite a while because they haven’t had a whole lot of good news for MB and me over the years. Then, of course, there was the Obli Doctor and his incompetent stabbing of the hideous and horribly located obli (unscramble the letters — I still can’t say it) and the Pneumonia Doctor who pointed out the “gas” and “poop” on my x-ray and made me turn the beetiest of beet reds while he chuckled at me like a condescending weenie. In his defense, I did ASK him what that alien “Mr. Bill-looking thingie” was inside my body, but did he lie to spare me the embarrassment of it all? No. No, he did not. I mean, look, Slappy. My temperature is 104. My pulse is 150. Cut me some slack. Do not point out my “gas” and “poop” — EVEN IF I ASK. I am delirious and deathly ill. Necrotic and awful. Comprende?
But my enmity for doctors is spreading, going national, because I now hate every plastic surgeon in New York in a deeply personal way.
Because I now KNOW every plastic surgeon in New York in a deeply personal way.
And Old Yeller? Mustard Teeth Guy? Honestly, you seem to have had a brow lift and yet your teeth are little yellow beach pebbles. Where are your priorities? Brows over TEETH? I mean, if a patient peed that color, you would no doubt hook them up to an IV of saline, do a urinalysis, a CBC, a CMP, now and STAT! and all that other medical mumbo-jumbo.
The thing is …. your teeth …. they actually ENRAGE me, which can only mean that all this talk of breast mounds has truly sent me ’round the bend.
Or mound.
Or whatever.
Stay tuned for even more blather including: priceless hoity-toity doctor quotes.
Yamahama, Crackie. For doctor types, they sure be dumb.
Sometimes they spend so much time worrying about the body they forget the person.
NF — So true. It’s not fair, really, to say I HATE them, but I haven’t had a lot of good news or good human interaction with them over the years.
I had forgotten about that Mr. Bill face floating in between your internal organs, and I am dying laughing. Especially when you wrote the word “howling”. I can’t stop laughing.