Showing posts with label Outrageous visits. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Outrageous visits. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Wow, hadn't expected that!

My patient pumped Purel in her palm, leaned over the counter as she rubbed it into her hands.

“You should be glad I’m using this,” she opined to my front office clerk who looked up with an inquisitive arching of brows.

“Yep, you see I don’t wash my hands,” my patient shot back with a serious nod.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Blow and Tell

She stood by the counter, a brown grocery sack in hand. Without a word, she upended the brimming bag, used Kleenexes tumbling over the surface, some falling onto the ground.

“This,” she declared angrily, “is one day’s worth of tissues. I need help now!”

Eyes wide, mouth clamped shut, my front desk receptionist grabbed for the Lysol.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Show and smell

M was annoyed and didn’t look well. She rummaged in her purse, then tossed a Ziploc bag on the desk.

Uh-oh, close encounters of the turd kind. Could’ve figured this out sans sample!

She rose at visit’s end, went to leave without Exhibit A.

“Would you mind throwing out...that?”

So she did, right into the basket underneath my desk.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

So who's the "Glamor Don't"?

I ushered my patient into a room thinking “I wish I could carry off high-heeled boots with such ease.

She, in turn, regarded me with curiosity as she eased into her seat. Adjusting her tiny skirt, she remarked “Well you’re not exactly styling today.”.

I waited for the ‘just kidding’ to follow, but, alas, it never did.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

The kid and I in 30-some years?

Bea still drives; she’s 91.  Son Gabe’s a sprout of 72.  He seemed down, so she brought him by for a morning visit.

“Doctor,” she began after both sat down, “He doesn’t do anything, he just mopes in the house!  He should get out and be with his friends.”

“Mo’om” he wailed, stretching two syllables from one.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Pet therapy

Carol warned me last minute; she’d scheduled this appointment to ‘fess up to hubby a large credit card debt. 

Yikes!  Have I lost my mind? He’s Hell’s Angel scary, she’s frightened and thin.

By sheer luck, my dog was the fourth in the exam room that day.  Five scrawny pounds, a lap technician working her charms.