Health Care

My $30 dollar co-pay bought me five minutes with my Dr. He comes in, and I’m not kidding, he says, “Ok. Here’s what we got. We’ve got some pancreas tissue in your stomach.” I said, “Seriously?! How does that happen? I don’t remember eating a pancreas. I’ve eaten some weird tacos, but I don’t remember a pancreas taco. Pan Dulce, yes. Pan Creas, no.” That’s when the other Dr. walked in; a white guy named Dr. Smith. I’ve had so many Indian Drs. the last few months, now I don’t trust whitey. Whitey asked me, “Have you been throwing up?” I was almost offended. I don’t know Whitey. That’s a little too much personal information to be giving Dr. Cracker. I said shortly, “No.” “How about abdominal pain?” I again said shortly, “No.” I think Dr. Patel could tell I was annoyed by the Blue-eyed Devil, so my curry eating brother says, “Dr. Smith is following me around today. I’m taking vacation in a few weeks and he’s going to cover for me so he’s getting up to speed on some of my cases.”
Doctors shouldn’t be allowed to go on vacation until they’ve closed out their cases that they’ve opened. Either that or people should only get sick in the icky months like February when the doctor people don’t go on vacation. I have been very impressed my Indian doctor though. All three of them in fact. I’ve also been very happy with my Indian convenience store clerk. Isn’t it odd how that particular culture has gravitated toward a couple of specialties in the workforce? Convenience Store guy, Doctor, and to a much lesser sense, environmental engineer. The convenience store guy will be pissed if you “Wheeze the Juice” and the doctor will treat it, if you are.