Jumping from hoop to hoop and following the big red tape.

I am about to finish a series of medical appointments. Today will be the last, I hope. The first appointment as mentioned in an earlier rant was an exercise in torture. The torture began with filling out endless questions about my general health. ‘Have you ever had the black plague.’ ‘Was your mother a chain smoker of marijuana?’ ‘Did your father ever threaten drowning your siblings?’ And on and on. Then came relief when I got my root canal.

Then the next day on to my dermatologist. Answer these questions: ‘Have you ever had the black plague.’ ‘Was your mother a chain smoker of marijuana?’ ‘Did your father ever threaten drowning your siblings?’ Then finally the doctor froze off many pre-cancerous spots. An easy task. Ouch!

Then on to my annual physical and yet again, fill out the following questions: ‘Have you ever had the black plague.’ ‘Was your mother a chain smoker of marijuana?’ ‘Did your father ever threaten drowning your siblings?’ Then I was given my Covid booster shot with all its attending aches and fevers.

Then yesterday I went to a place to have a blood test and more of the same questions. Why do they ask all the same questions but don’t share the data? I sat with the office person and answered dozens of if not hundreds of same, same questions. It took almost thirty minutes to plow the same field of weeds. Con on! At lease ask a few different Q&A’s. Then it took half a minute to take a blood test. Whew! I hate needles in my arm.

Today I am scheduled to see my orthopedic doctor and I am almost positive he will give me a paper that will ask the same questions. ‘Have you ever had the black plague?’ ‘Was your mother a chain smoker of marijuana?’ ‘Did your father ever threaten drowning your siblings?’ Then I am scheduled to receive another needle in the shoulder. Jumping Jack Daniels! When will the paper work ever end? I guess whenever that very warm subterranean chamber chills and freezes over. Or I stop going to the doctor.

Published by Charles Oldenfatt the Curmudgeon

If I told you the truth about myself you would think what a wad of chewed gum stuck under a church pew I am. Dull. Ordinary .old and fat

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