|My Recent Trip Of Insanity To The Doctors Office
||May 12, 2006
|RANT #262: Misc.
||B $ Crane
Summary: Everyone has to go to the Doctor's office, and we all hate it. The funny thing is that no matter how many different Doctor's there are in the world, the experience is always the same for everyone. T...
This rant contains profanity or other offensive material.
|I snore as if I am the offspring off a lustful encounter between a rusted jackhammer and bloody buzz saw. I also tend to frequently stop breathing for short periods while sleeping, therefore thwarting my body from basking in the sweet life nectar that is oxygen. I thought it may be a dandy idea to grace the doctors office with my famed appearance before I suffocate like a bitch in my own bed.|
I walked into the office and my nostrils were immediately overwhelmed with the deathstench of ass and mothballs because apparently it is mandatory for all medical abodes to smell like this. I dont care if you walk into Shock Trauma or an elbow specialist, every office smells EXACTLY the same, why is this? At first, I just figured that when anyone graduates from medical school, they recieve a goodybag with their diploma, a stethoscope and a small arosol dispenser containing a liquid substance, most likely produced by the Axe Body Spray department, that they are required to douse their wating rooms with every morning. Then reality quickly set in, Axe smells amazing,unless you get "Tsunami" which apparently is nothing more than a bottled version of Star Jones' excrement.... hmm maybe that IS what they spray all over the waiting room. "Welcome to the Doctors Office, enjoy the shitstench!"
So, In reality, where the hell is this morbid smell petruding from.... I'll tell you exactly where, the people in the waiting room! Everytime I go to the doctors office, the exact same people are there. 13 drooling geriatrics and 2 mothers with there kids, who are running around screaming like they were just told that santa wasn't real and then doused in gasoline and set ablaze. Seriously, all you mothers out there, tell your little bastards to sit still in the doctors office. No one is excited about being there, and the banshee screams coming from your children are making the experience even worse. If toys or a vat of cheerios doesnt work, go old school and beat them like your husband does to you after he polishes off a bottle of Whisky. If you cant do it, I promise you that I will punt the brat through a window like my name was Ray Finkel and your kid had its laces out. ***On a side note, If you don't know what the Ray Finkel reference is from, go rent Ace Ventura and then kill yourself***. The one glorifying moment that actually brought me a morsel of joy was when one of the kids kept whining that he had to pee pee, and the mother kept saying "shhhh".... obviously a motherhood mistake... the kid walked over and drenched the fake plant in the corner with urine. Everyone stared at the mother in dismay while this was happening.... I did the only thing I could, I started laughing hysterically! The mother got teary eyed and then everyone stared at me... oh well, its not my fault it was hilarious! I also guarantee it wasn't me that made her get teary eyed, it was probably her embarassment of a son! But hey, look on the bright side, old people arent any better. They mumble obsentites outloud, are extremely rude to anyone that gets within 10 feet from them. They also have absolutely NO control over their bodily functions and are completely oblivious to it. It was my luck that the only empty seat in the waiting room was sandwiched between 2 old women. One was completely asleep and had accumulated such a large pool of drool in her lap that it was literally overflowing onto the floor and started seeping slowly towards my feet. Did i mention that the drool wasn't clear? It was green... FUCKIN GREEN... what the hell is that about? Did Slimer from the Ghostbusters just take a shit in your mouth before nap time? The other lady was staring straight ahead with a wierd toothless grin.... not only was she staring at the wall like it was a provacative spread of Matlock, but she was simultaneously releasing a steady stream of silent flatulence that smelt like Bob Barker himself was nestled in her anus playing Plinco with 2 year old dung balls and a couple rotten eggs. As you can picture, I was in quite a pickle. If I stayed and acted like I didnt know what was going on I would either die from deadly gas inhalation or my clothing would deteriorate from airborne toxins, leaving me nude and scared. But, on the other hand, If I stood up to run, I would surely step in ( and most likely slip) in skeletors saliva, which, mind you, is now the size of Lake Ontario at high tide. So I did what any God fearing man or woman would do in this situation of epic proportions..... I farted back.... i did. Granted, no fart is pleasant, even if you eat a steady diet of pineapple, but ANYONE would rather bask in their own grumbles then somebody elses for sure! But guess what....I am not lying.... it just so happens that Jesus found my predicament to be hilarious, so for that 2 seconds of my life, he gave my body the magical power to not produce any odor. Needless to say, I was horrified. That was my only unfortunate escape from the wrinkly grips of death that these two mummies had on me and my body just mocked me. FAN-FUCKIN-TASTIC. I sat in silence, holding my breath as the smell form "driving miss daisy's" butt cave cloaked me in a blanket of yuck, and the lagoon creatures spit ate away at the carpet and flooring underneath my flipflops. God I love going to the doctor's!
After a few minutes passed the smell had left, and Sally Saliva had been called back for her appointement, so I was once again free to observe the joy of hell that was surrounding me. "Maybe I should pass the time by perusing a periodical" I thought to myself. I stepped over the remains of the drool pool, and walked over to the magazine rack. My hopes were crushed when I noticed that the selection was pretty damn slim. It was made up of about 12 issues of "Home and Garden", 2 "Dora the Explorer" coloring books (coated in cheeto reminence for texture) and a pamphlet on cervical cancer. After a sigh or two, I took the cancer pamphlet back to my seat and sat in silence. Even though coloring and articles on "improving my turnip patch" do sound tremendously joygasmic... they didnt stand a chance against the wonderous world of inter-vagina doom. My intrigue was short lived. After I got about 2 paragraphs and 3 diagrams into the reading, I realized what was unfolding before my eyes and pretty much threw up in my mouth. "Fay the Farter" shot me a look of disgust when she realized what I had been reading... I just stared back into her glaucoma glazed eyes and wanted to shout "You look at me with disgust even after you nearly released the seven horsemen of the apocalypse through your asshole only moments ago, you wrinkled up douche prune!" It wouldnt have done me any good anyways since her hearing aid was most likely on MUTE and Lord knows I wouldnt want to take the chance of being the guy who was mean to granny and caused her pacemaker to short circuit. So I swallowed my pride and sent her a warm smile. As for the pamphlet... It wasnt "Sports Illustrated" or "Car and Driver", but at least I now know the ins and outs of a pap smear...could come in handy when I end up on Jeopardy.
The nurse finally came and hollared my name only a mear 95 minutes after my scheduled appointemt, terrific! She led me down a long dimly lit corridor that made me feel as if I was walking towards the electric chair. My palms started to sweat, the hair on my body stood at attention and a couple drops of piss escaped from my dick just as it packed up my balls and moved to a cabin up in my stomach. After we got to the room, that looked like the lab in chem class...minus the bunsun burners, the nurse took my temperature, my weight and all the other pointless jive that goes along with every doctors visit. "Hey lady,you know why I'm here! What the eff does the speed of my pulse have to do with my nose?" A quick question for all you doctor visitors... why is this pre-examination so awkward? Its like whenever a thermometer or stethoscope is unveiled we lose all basic knowledge of anything. We just stare with a "brain dead' expression spackled across our face, and tense up as if they were about to forcefeed the apparatuses to us.... why is that?? While Im in the waiting room, I always tell myself how once I'm back there, I'm gonna "play it cool" or "act normal" and as soon as im back in the med lab actually experiencing it, I dip in and out of conciousness with no recollection of the prior 3 minutes. Almost like the Men In Black just wiped my memory with their flashing stick. Anyways... we went through all the routine mumbo jumbo, I made a couple jokes that the nurse didn't appreciate, she told me the doctor would be in shortly, and then she rolled out... leaving me all alone in this room of wonderment. I think all doctors leave you alone on purpose as some sort of social experiment to see what we will do. Almost like we are the cast from LOST and we are alone in the hatch, of course we are gonna probe around a bit. So, I hopped up off my uncomfortable bed like table and started looking through all the cabinets, juggled some cotton balls, checked my refelexes with that cool rubber hammer, went up and down on the motorized chair, contemplated tasting the rubbing alcohol, played with the torture like tools and walked around examining the doctors family portaits. I had never seen family photos in an exam room before.... and i must say it left me feeling wierd. How am I supposed to endure the already awkward examination while staring at the doctor and his family in their pastel shirts, with over exaggerated smiles standing in front of the roller coaster at Busch Gardens, clutching their stuffed pink animals in their hands that they just won in a rousing game of skeeball? I know you are thinking, "Well B$, I actually don't think it would be so bad"...Thats fine, you are entitled to your opinion, but if you had to disrobe and a doctor, his wife and his three children were staring back at you, peeping tom style, via an 8.5 x 11 "window" and you didn't feel the slight bit queesy...(or aroused you sick bastards) give me a ring on my telly and I'll mail you a ribbon of recognition. Me on the other hand... "Turn your head... now cough... and look at my family.... they are soo happy... my finger isnt too cold is it?" Uggghhh i shudder in fear! Thank God it was just a nose check up...at least what I remember!
Anyways, the doctor came in and dug around in my nasal cavity as if he was Blackbeard searching for treasure ,and it turns out my septum is completely collapsed into my right nostril. How that happened...I have no idea... perhaps the drunken collarbone snap escapade... which is an entirely different story. Bottom line is that I need surgery, which he tells me will be "short and sweet" but nothing about anesthesia, slicing and dicing through my skin and trimming cartiledge sounds short or sweet. He told me I need to take a week off work because of gross discharge and, in his words, I will be "out of my world on pain pills" should be a hoot. I'll send an update post-surgery.
Till next time... im out... like the VP's hunting hobby.
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