Across a crowded waiting room
April 4, 2007 § 11 Comments
I am so sick of doctors I can’t even tell you.
Today, it was x-rays. Tomorrow, test results. Next week, an ultrasound. The week after that, another eye exam. By the time my follow-up has been completed, I will have read every issue of Elle Québec that has ever been published. Then, I will promptly die of old age.
To keep things interesting, I have taken to fantasizing about medical personnel. Not physicians, mind you, but the considerably greater numbers of staff who move through the halls like green-bellied alleycats. Thus far, I’ve had incredibly hot sex with a lab technician, a porter, a receptionist, and a maintenance worker. I’ve got my sights set on an ambulance driver next.
My admittedly fertile imagination aside, I am quite certain that the average hospital secretly throbs with sexual activity. At particularly dull moments, I am tempted to knock sharply on the doors of supply closets as I pass, and to await the strategically timed emergence of their occupants. I only think of such things because hospitals do not subscribe to any interesting magazines. If they did, my thoughts would be as chaste as a monk’s.
Oh, and just in case any of you are wondering, I wouldn’t fuck Dr. Evil if my life depended on it. Ugh.