Even Keel

It's taken a couple of days, but things around this joint are once again running like a poorly oiled thrashing machine.  Not to worry, that's a normal state of affairs and I'm happy with it.  A well oiled, smooth riding machine is indicative of a whole lot more maintenance than I'm ready to perform.  Besides, bumpy roads and jalopies are always more interesting than freeways and luxury sedans. 

Speaking of bumps, I've had a few lately, and learned a lesson from one of them - don't ever tell your Doctor a little lie.  He'll catch it and get even.

My old Doctor knew everything about me; he should have, it was his job, and he had almost two decades to figure it out.  My new guy doesn't know me at all, but I have a feeling that's gonna change real soon.  He started right off by asking me stuff like "When was your latest ________?"   He kept asking that question, in one iteration or another, for, I guess, three hundred times.  I sorta lost the count after eighteen.  Don't ever let me go to Las Vegas.  It's a sure thing I can't count cards if I can't count questions.

Well, I answered as best I could, but it's hard to remember about stuff that happened twenty years ago.  Even if it's important stuff like "What year did you say you cut off your little finger and they reattached it?"  Seriously.  I mean, who keeps track?   Ask me instead who won Super Bowl XXIV.  I know the answer to that one.  I'm not really dumb, just inconsistent. 

So, when the blank in the question was filled with the word "colonoscopy", I answered "Oh, let's say a year and a half."  Well, I know better - NOBODY forgets when that little invasion of personal space occurs.  But, I also know I'm 'sposed to look the other way every five years as some well intentioned guy in a white coat and chemical resistant, splash proof apron does some really obnoxious things behind my back.  And, it has been well over six years since a Doctor, whom I claimed as a friend, did his job and caused me to "unfriend" him. 

We'd still show up at the same parties, but I'd never turn my back on him, especially if his anesthesiologist buddy was across the room - ya know what I mean?  Don't take it wrong.  The good Doctor did his job, did it well, but still,  I hated it.  What man in his right mind actually decides to become a proctologist?  Of his own free will?  Ya gotta wonder.......

Turns out my new Doctor must be pretty good.  It seems he read the sixty-five hundred pages of medical history sent to him from Los Alamos, and compared the stuff in it to the "When Was"  questions I had answered several weeks earlier in his office.  No wonder Doctors are well paid.  They must spend night after night wadding through all this stuff while the rest of us are fiddling with our toenails and screaming at the moronic news readers on TV.

The call came out of the blue.  "Hello.......  Forrest?"   The question mark at the end was almost pronounced. 

"Yes." I said.

That was a mistake.  I should know to hang up anytime I answer the phone and the person on the other end does not recognize my distinctive voice.  It always leads to disaster if I allow the conversation to continue.

"This is Dr. You  Shouldn'thavelied.  I'm calling to get even.  Your overdue colonoscopy is scheduled for the 23rd..  Be there.  Don't ever lie to me again 'cause I'm more anal than you." 

Today was the 23rd, I was there, and I'll never lie to him again.