Why is it; when we are sick and are first put within the disposal of a Nurse that has promised to prepare us by ; sitting us on a cold, metal, folding chair in a room where the temperature is minus 28 degrees; and this is without, a stitch of cloth covering our quaking body.
She then attaches three or four needles into our frames; with hoses attached to some part of the entirely naked body; and tells you not to move until the Doctor has examined you to determine how many of the prescriptions he can write that offer a rebate percent of the total price for the writer of “Th’ ‘Scrip.”
He; then began to tug and squeeze the same parts of your body that the Nurse has left bruises on; while humming and asking you; “Does this hurt? He tells the Nurse to prepare the new machine that was delivered yesterday and we’ll see if it will work as good as the Salesman said it would.” By now; we have frozen to the metal chair and every part of our poor body is crying for: “Just a little relief from these folks that are trying their best to kill me; is all I’m asking for: Dear Lord.”
When we try to convince the Nurse that our body hurts all ever and; she says; ” I know; You’re trying to avoid as much work for the Doctor and less money on the finish sheet.
What does she do first? “She snatches your right foot and throws it over your left shoulder; while standing on your left ankle. This is taught in Nurses school for extra credit. When we try to raise our head to holler; she plants a fist just under your chin. The next procedure is to toss that little short gown at you and and makes no effort to leave when you have to remove every stitch of clothes you wore when you entered this building.
Surely: the young lady was carrying out the orders from the Doctors and was not hanging around to gather visual memories to add to the stories that were popular at the next “Girls Night Out: meeting. If this was her intentions; She was disappointed when the patient was an 87 year old “Codger” that could hardly move, and not some handsome “Football Star,” or; at least, a celebrity of some kind. “Oh, Well: You can’t win-um all; every time”
Finally; we are freed from this particular appointment with a few days free, until the next one; when this will start all over again. “You know:” “I’ve been wondering why Mama and I get Birthday Cards, Valentines, Christmas Cards; and some Cards, I’ve never heard of; from some strange, unknown Doctors;” “At our age, it takes things a while to sink in; but I’ve beginning to realize that “WE DO OUR PART” to help keep bread on the Doctors tables.
“Our biggest problem, is being allowed, at least a few days relief; between Doctor’s visits, to recuperate from the last one.