My daughter drove me to the nearest urgent care clinic. The doctor who owns it is a retired orthopedic surgeon so I figured it was a pretty good choice for a foot injury.
I had called the clinic several hours earlier to ask how late they were open and whether they had an x-ray machine. Open ’til 8 and yes. But then a few minutes later the receptionist called back and said, “Make that 7”.
When my daughter got home from work at 5, she drove me right over there.
There was no receptionist, all was quiet.
I hobbled over to the counter, signed in and sat down.
A few minutes later the doc came into the waiting room, sat down and said his receptionist left with stomach pains. We hadn’t noticed the closed sign on the unlocked door – too busy trying to hop into the building.
He said if I was already in the computer, he would take me.
I wish I had said, “That’s alright,” and gone somewhere else.
But I was in the computer so I stayed.
He examined my foot. So far so good.
But then the x-ray. He fumbled around a bit, positioned my foot and then stepped behind the wall to take the pic.
“Wait, aren’t you going to put the bib on me?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Sorry.” He laid it on my torso like a blanket. When he wasn’t looking I pulled it up to protect my thyroid.
AFTER he took two views – one of the top of my foot and one of the side that ISN’T bruised, ISN’T painful, he said, “Hold on a minute while I make sure I did this right. I don’t take x-rays very often.”
WHY, why, why did I stay?
He showed me the films and pointed out where the bone is chipped. Told me to wear the boot, stay off it and come back in two weeks for another x-ray.
I’ll get another x-ray alright, but not there.
So here I am. Stuck on the sofa again. Beagle to the left of me, hound dog to the right, here I am, stuck on the sofa with you…
So much for long summer walks and getting in shape. I’m going to need some good movies.
On a positive note, I have PLENTY of time to read your posts. So tell me a really good story.