Waiting on the “provider” at urgent care. Is it just me, or does
“The Provider” sound like some sort of third-tier Marvel superhero?
One of the sad things about modern medicine is the questions you get asked.
It used to be, “Where does it hurt?” Or, “What brings you to see us today?”
Now it’s “Do you feel safe in your home?”
As long as I can see the wife in my peripheral vision, and both of her hands are empty, sure.
Or, “Are you depressed?”
Not until you asked me that question.
Another popular one seems to be, “Have you had any other falls recently?”
I didn’t fall this time. I broke my ankle running and then hopped around on the good leg, screaming all of George Carlin’s “Seven Words” in no particular order. Then I limped home, got in the car, and drove a few blocks to visit some people who seem to enjoy probing strangers for weakness and financial information.
While we’re discussing modern medicine, here’s another observation about crutches. Not only do they still not come equipped with cup holders, shocks, or hydraulic disc brakes as standard equipment, but no matter where or how you park them, like Doc Sarvis’s bicycle, they still slide immediately to the floor.
And finally, if like me you suddenly seem to have some time on your hands that desperately needs filling, scope out this fine interview with Sonny Rollins. He’s had to give up the sax due to illness, but he hasn’t given up, y’feel me?
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