Posted by
William D. Dannenmaier on Wednesday, September 02, 2009 11:09:19 AM
When I was having severe back and leg pains a few months ago I telephoned Dr. Smith’s office for an appointment. His office set an appointment for 11 August and had X-rays taken. Since that time I have taken, daily, a set of exercises to relieve sciatica, assuming that if there were a serious problem (other than pain) Dr. Smith would have notified me following the X-rays. The pains have mostly disappeared and I suggested to Sheila that perhaps I should telephone, explain the improvement and ask if I should cancel the appointment. Sheila’s immediate response was, “Don’t do that. I want to hear about his trip to Spain.”
My claim of a conspiracy to subjugate husbands was exemplified by my trip to Dr. Smith. Sheila insisted on telling him about a sharp and continuing pain I have developed in my ankle. Like any normal person, I have assumed it will go away, but Gary insisted on looking at it. He then required X-rays. He said there were numerous small bones in the area and I might have cracked or broken one in my nightly wanderings. Then he added, “You will, of course, have to wear a boot.” At that, he and Sheila smiled at each other. Both know that I have always taken a thoughtful and conservative approach to their rules, but that if I’m in a boot I won’t be able to interpret medical decrees to my own desires. How can I mow the grass or work in the garden with a boot on one foot? No wonder they were both so pleased at the thought. I’ll be lucky if they don’t weld on a lead boot.
I arrived at 9:30 for an appointment with Dr. Blazer, my heart doctor, and was ushered in to see him at 10:30 or so – like Dr. Smith he takes his time with patients. I had intended to ask him if I couldn’t do some activities in the Cardiac Club other than leg exercises, but decided that would not be wise after receiving a lecture from him, seconded by Sheila, on my personal behavior. It seems my chest is getting worse, my cholesterol is up, and I need to increase my medicine and be more diligent in taking it. At the time, I couldn’t think of any unusual activities on my part which might have caused the increase in the gap in my chest but when I got home I remembered carrying a full five gallon can of gasoline around, which I presume weighs more than five pounds and doing a lot of clipping of weeds earlier in the week. Stephen mentioned my concrete mixing, adding to the abuse. I suppose it is those activities which caused the problem so I should be able to continue with my gardening and lawn mowing – which seems reasonable.
Considering what a subservient and obedient patient I am and the lectures I get from Smith and Blazer, I wonder what they do to patients who don’t follow their instructions. Actually, I’m a bit tired of being bossed around by two middle-aged male medics. I think I’m going to start looking for an attractive female medic, between twenty-five and thirty-five, who believes everything a patient tells her and assumes they are always right.
I learned this morning when a nice young girl becomes a woman. Every Sunday, following church, we drive to Murphy’s CB store for, according to Sheila, milk, bread and eggs. Usually, when Sheila and basket return to the front of the store to be checked out, the bill is a hundred dollars or more, incidentals she thought of while shopping. Marty, the young man who packages groceries among other duties, Kiana, who runs the cash register, and I have taken to betting – no money, just fun – on how much the milk will cost me after Sheila has found other items she forgot to mention. Over the months Kiana has played fair and square, just like one of the guys: when she won she rejoiced, when she lost she laughed. Then it happened on my most recent trip to the grocery. Kiana had turned seventeen a few days earlier. Knowing it was almost the end of the month, I bet on five items instead of just milk, Kiana went for between six and ten. There were five items. I won! But then Kiana claimed that she had bet on $31.02, which was exactly on target, so she won – she denied that she bet on the number of items or looked at the cash register. Kiana is now seventeen. She has entered womanhood. No longer the open, honest, approach of men and boys of her girlhood, now twisting and turning to win. Womanhood. It begins at seventeen.
I confess, I burst out laughing when Stephen walked in a few minutes ago. Stephen planted varied melons, cucumbers and other things in the front yard – perhaps to have less grass to mow. A cucumber with a brown skin has been especially prolific, and Stephen announced he was going to take some down to Mrs. Rector, my closest neighbor to the east. Fifteen or twenty minutes later, one allows time for gossip, he returned carrying three large cantaloupes. Here in the hills, you simply can’t give without getting. No matter how little someone has, they always have something to give. As Miss Ruby used to say, “You can’t return a plate empty.” I confess. I shall enjoy the cantaloupe.