Dear readers, I don't wish to put you all through the sort of Hell I experience, so I'll just say that I managed to secure a doctor's appointment, and boy, is my frontal lobe tired! It's so tired that can't recall the last time I was this excited about securing a doctor's appointment. It's right up there with "It's 'Pick Your Own Steak Night,' Don," only with more fat.
The phone scold said, "You'll be waiting awhile." To gauge how long, I asked, "What size book should I bring?" She kinda laughed and said something along the lines of "Looong."
I don't know to whom or what to credit the following, but literary and journalistic turnaround times are truly impressive. Twenty-three car pile-up on the Katy Freeway one minute, Dominique Sachse on the scene the next, and flawlessly dolled-up to boot.
In short, my dear friends, my literary selection for my doctor's visit will be an unauthorized account of my attempts to secure a doctor's visit. And no, I'm not the author. I'm not that narcissistic, and I'm afraid I just don't possess the verbal fecundity nor the urgency that such a weighty tome requires. Also, I cannot in good conscience authorize this doorstep because in it, the author claims I'm a vegetarian. Why I ought to sue the hack until he's subsisting off government cheese. Vindictiveness, my friends, is not in my nature.
Look for "Goofus the Vegetarian Has His Tonsils Removed" at your local literary outlet of choice.
Post Script: With all due respect, the phone scold moved mountains to ensure I get in. I appreciate her throwing her weight around. However, she also said she doesn't mind that patients may have a long wait time, punctuating her statement with an insouciant chuckle. To be charitable, I reminded her that she should care because mental illness is a disease that ranks alongside cancer in terms of severity. The surcease of her self-satisfied smirk occurred, I assure you, abruptly, as though Steve Martin's "The Jerk" was interrupted by a Click 2 News Special Report.
Dominique?
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