Doctors
I hate being sick. Because then I have to go to the doctors. Let me just say this, doctors are going to be the death of me. (Oh how ironic would that be?)
The smell in my doctor's office waiting room thing is horrid. It smells like burning plastic. It smells like death. It doesn't "make me feel better".
God forbid there's a sick child in the waiting room. Yeah, hello don't climb on me with your nasty self, thanks. Why do they do that anyway? Why come for a check up (that's 5 hours late) to be put in a nasty, sick waiting room?! I'm healthy! I just want a check up and here comes the doctor.
Hallelujah! So I get taken out of that nasty waiting room to get put in a room all by myself. Great. We all know I can be trusted with that kind of responsibility. So the doctor walks in and I'm on the floor playing with toy dinosaurs. Very mature, Chase.
So I stand up and she weighs me and checks my height. Here comes the questions.
Are you sexually active?
No
You sure?
Pretty sure.
What color is your poop?
I don't know! what color is it supposed to be?!
Do you pee regularly?
What is regularly?!
Is you neighborhood safe?
Not really.
That's good.
What?!
Then she hands me a cup. And me being me, I stare a it. Then she explains I have to pee in it. Fun. So I walk into the bathroom and spend 10 minutes figuring how to turn on the damn light. I finally get it and I pee. No problem. (That's a first)
I'm washing my hands and then a reach for the paper towels. And what do I knock over? The cup of pee. -readers applause-
So I walk out of the bathroom with my, 2nd let me remind you, cup of pee and hands it to the doctors. She stares at it then gives it to a lady who does something with it. Then she leaves me alone again. Great.
So basically one shot, one bandage, and two prescriptions later, I'm at the front desk. And she tells me, "That'll be 200 dollars." What?! I just write a check and curse under my breath. That's what happened at the doctors.
I got a Scooby-Doo bandaid though.
