My doctor's son is now my doctor. He's much taller than his father and seems energetic, not at all jaded, which is natural since he's only been in the office about a year. He listens to me without being bored. Or maybe he's bored, but disguises it well. His father listened to me too, but spent too much time answering the phone. The problem could be with me. I'm basically a boring patient. I report the same problem every visit--too much eating at night leading to high sugar numbers in the morning. Lately I've been getting this pain in my right buttock, which is separate from the discomfort in my hip. I don't think it's my posture.
Am I boring you?
Anyway, I have a family photo of my doctor's brood from years ago and his son is maybe ten. He's smiling and looking really small and preteen. Now this little fellow has my life in his hands. His mother works right in the office and his aunt handles billing. Sometimes they have a family conference right in front of me, arguing in Indonesian about something I know has nothing to do with me, unless the son is angry at his dad for transferring such a dull patient to him. Maybe they're pissed at me for breaking their toilet last visit. It's a long story I've probably already told because, not only am I boring, but my memory's going.
No comments:
Post a Comment