Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Sick & Sicker

“I can’t believe I’m going to sit there for forty-five minutes again, Madelene.”
“I’m thinking the same thing.”
“I mean, he just sits there and stares at me as if I had two heads.”
“There’s no other psychiatrist. They’re all booked up, Deb.”
“I’m going to sit there, and play with his plants like I usually do.”


Driving up the thruway heading towards my doctor’s appointment, Madelene starts sneezing her head off. By the twentieth sneeze, instead of “God bless you”—I was simply going to tell her, “SHUT UP!” She’s too cute though. Besides, she is coming along for the ride to be bored out of her skull waiting for me to get analyzed by some quack.

We get into the office. It’s a very large square office. Each door has a different type of doctor inside. You walk into this square room, full of chairs surrounding the door of each doctor. We head over to where my psychiatrist’s door is. It’s usually dismal and dark over in that corner; quite eerie to tell you the truth.

“Psst, you think he’s going to charge me for the days missed?” I whispered softly, so nobody could hear.
“No, he never does that to you.” Madelene replies in her normal voice.
“Shhh!”
“What? Who cares?”
Madelene says, laughing at my ridiculous behavior, as if I were plotting something against my shrink.

Madelene fumbles through her dirty magazines. No, not porn. I mean the magazines which all the other people who were sitting there before her touched. People come in here because they’re sick or they need mental help. The magazines are rotated, so you can’t just assume that they’re the shrink’s magazines. My OCD is kicking in big time all of the sudden. Thank God when Lurch (my shrink) comes out to get me, he holds the door open for me. God forbid I should touch that doorknob. I’m safe though, I always have my anti-bacterial gel handy at all times.

Lurch appears at the door. He nods. I instantly sprint up, almost tripping over my own feet. There I sat, on that fake leather couch again, making that awful squishy noise.
“Haven’t seen you in quite some time, what’s been going on?” Lurch says.
Can you believe this? He spoke! He said the first words! I am so impressed with his progress. He is coming out of his shell, and I am happy to say that he may be coming out of his introverted world. I start noting my pad.

I basically sat there and amused this man for forty-five minutes.
“Anxiety at night and bad PMS rages per month. I can’t believe this plant is real!” I said, playing with his plants that overwhelm his office. My A.D.H.D. is now coming to a head.
“Still taking the ativan?”
“Yep.”
“Is it helping?”
“Nope.”
“Why do you think it’s not helping?”
“Because I am experiencing anxiety attacks.”


MORON!

Already he has his third party papers ready to be scripted up, and flung into the pharmacist’s basket. I love how head doctors are so itchy to get you on more medication. If it doesn’t work—take more! That’s my motto with my bloody marys, but we won’t tell him that.

The word “kickbacks” is what “t-bones” mean to a hungry German Shepherd.

“Acupuncture. What do you think of that option, Doc?”
“Well, it works differently for everyone. Sometimes it can all be inside your head though.”
He replies, sounding more and more like my mother.
“So what do you suggest I do for my frequent anxiety attacks?”
“I don’t know. What’s bothering you?”
“Check please!”—
Wait, wrong scene.

I walk out the door, and Madelene is sitting there all studious reading some article about GM products. She’s a car saleswoman, so whenever she gets a good read on a competitor, she’s all up in it.

I motion to leave.
“Huh?”
“Let’s go!”
I say in a demanding voice.
“OH!” She says, surprised that we weren’t going to stay for a cocktail with Lurch. Did she want to stay there and read every article Home and Gardens has for her? I’m not sure.

We both ran to the truck, as the rain came down hard. In front of my car, was a very tall man getting out of a Mini Cooper. It amazes me how many tall people drive these little itty bitty cars. It’s kind of like, how many clowns can you fit in this car?

“So, did he help today?” Madelene asks.
I just gave her a look that said a thousand words.
“Yes, he did help me.” I held up my prescription and smiled. Madelene shook her head and laughed. Minutes later, Madelene has a sneezing attack while we are driving down the thruway. It didn’t stop until we got home. This was unlike her usual twenty or thirty sneezes in a row, this was more like fifty.

Now that I have recovered from being sick, I have to report that Madelene has been given my bug. The best way to get rid of your sickness, is to give it to someone else, right? Mission accomplished. Now I have to play nurse for a few days. And no—I will not wear a nurse’s outfit because I look like a big fat German tank when I wear white.