Teeth

Had to go to the doctor for a checkup the other day. Came back with a total clean bill of health. Carol decided the guy had to be a quack. I eat too much, I eat the wrong stuff, I don't exercise, I have a bad attitude, I don't sleep, there is no way I can't be dying. She has been a nurse her entire life, she recommended the guy, she made me go. She has definite parameters guiding her in selection of physicians. She knows who is good or who had bad luck recently, what schools and experience they might boast or what hospitals allow them privileges. I, on the other hand, tend to go with the doctor having the smallest fingers.

My appointment was for ten o'clock and I arrived early to fill out any paperwork. The receptionist asked a few questions and gave me a clipboard with the required forms. I sat next to an elderly couple and just across from a woman with a four year old child...Billy...

Jumping straight to it I, having a reasonable comprehension of my history and being fairly quick with a pen, finished just after lunch. I'm 55 years old and can't imagine why they want to know about any trauma but I spent over an hour, and nine sheets of paper, telling them about the time I was kidnapped by Jimmy Tom and Booky when I was 5. I probably wasted my, and their, time because it wasn't really that big of a deal. Jimmy Tom's mom gave us cookies and they had every stolen toy in town to play with. When I told them I had to get going they said see ya later. I wonder if other kidnap victims have tried the I have to get going escape method? Anyhow, when I finally got to see the physician's examination room I was glad to find, after lying on the table for about fifteen minutes and then going through all those drawers, a pack of bandages. There were several bruises on my legs and a fairly deep bite wound on my arm. That Billy was a feisty little kid.

The doctor came in about four o'clock. Apparently some old guy died in the waiting room and they had to clean that up. He stuck a stethoscope on my chest and then on my back, made me cough and then grabbed something warm with those ice cold fingers and made me cough again. Count your blessings. The next thing he did with those fingers made me real glad he had a chance to warm them up first. At five after four he told me to put my shirt and pants back on and wait in the reception area for my results. Results is a medical term for bill.

The old lady still sat next to my chair looking all sad and when I asked how her husband was she started crying. Billy was in the corner getting his ass kicked by some five year old. His mom was all frantic but Billy bit the kid on his ear and that was that. I told you he was feisty. The receptionist finally gave me a prescription to ward off bite wound infection and let me go. I resolved to save time and not mention Jimmy Tom if anybody ever asks about trauma. I'll replace that with a tale titled, 'My Visit to the Doctor'.

Driving tip:  Most vehicles will provide power to only one tire. Unfortunately, that is always the tire with the least resistance. For instance: you have front wheel drive and your right front tire is in a mud bog. The rest of your car is high and dry but that right front will spin till you are out of gas. Press on the gas to get the tire spinning, Not hard, try not to dig yourself in deeper. While you have the tire spinning, put pressure on the brake with your other foot. The left tire is just sitting there, the right one is spinning against the brake causing friction and heating (and swelling) things up. After 30 seconds or so the right brake is hot. Now, let off the gas. step gently down on the brake and push gently on the gas. The mud tire should be locked by the hot brake allowing the left (cold tire) to turn. When the car moves a few inches get off the brake and go on your merry way.     .