Well, hello there! I hope your holidays were filled with the laughter of loved ones, the spirit of giving, and alcohol at breakfast. (If you do it right, you can hit all three with one stick. Then you can use that stick to play “Who can knock this cinnamon bun off the ceiling fan with this here stick?”
I had my daughter wrap all the gifts this year, because I am effectively thumb-less on my right hand. Trying to do everything with my left hand has made me very frustrated and angry at my ineptitude as a lefty. No wonder you people were burned at the stake years ago. Doing stuff with your left hand is hard and makes you cry and yell and I think I saw my daughter stockpiling matches.
I’ve seen the doctor again about my thumb and went into the visit knowing exactly what was wrong with me. I assured the nurse I wouldn’t be in the office long, as I had diagnosed myself and really just needed the doctor’s confirmation so I could win the bet I had with PM and collect my singing sparkle pony.
She led me into the examination room. “The doctor won’t be long.”
“No worries!” I replied. “I know what’s wrong anyway. I just wanted to let him know what it was; you know, for my file.”
She tried to answer, but went into a coughing fit. Poor thing. Working in a medical office can be hard on the immune system. She should take more vitamin C and garlic.
“So you’ve diagnosed the problem?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Great,” she said. “Doctors LOVE that.” She had another fit and had to leave the room.
When the doctor came in I informed him that thanks to my high-speed wireless connection and approximately $1.25 of usage time, I had determined something his $100,000 degree may have overlooked. He nodded and asked me to perform a movement with my hand, which should I fail to be able to do so would confirm my theory.
Of course I could do it perfectly.
Then he humoured me and said my diagnosis was a good guess, but that I was likely going to need surgery and physiotherapy for my now completely useless thumb and referred me to a plastic surgeon, who I am positive will be recommending immediate amputation.
I guess I should have expected my doctor’s response, what with his lackluster reaction to my visit last summer when I had determined I had Glucose-6-phosphate dehydrogenase deficiency. Back then he said I had to be an African American male to suffer from that, and at my last physical I proved to be neither. I replied that I think it’s important to remember that concepts such as race, gender and sex are nothing more than theories, really and he should probably run the tests anyway. Then he had a coughing fit.
I really need to send that office an email about taking care of themselves.
Ouch! Surgery?! Dude. That sucks. Although you didn’t have to wrap any presents, so, bonus?
Surgery sux but you’re writing hasn’t suffered. Brilliant, as usual. Drink till ya stink!
Your! Damnit.