Posts Tagged ‘Dr’s Office’

Waiting Room

I apologize for my lack of posting here recently, but a horrible cold has been plaguing my sinuses. After 4 days of pampering myself over herbal remedies, sleep and moderate computer time I’ve managed to work what was a simple cold into a full blown chest cold complete with ungirly cough and sniffle. I even disgust myself and the usual welcomed acoustics of an empty house are the enemy right now.

Mustering up all the strength I had today I found myself in the waiting room in the beauty of federal health care. My appointment was at 2:30 PM and yet as the clock above me ticked into 3:00 PM my sanity, not to mention the cough drop I popped in my mouth before I walked in the building, had started to wear thin.

I have a fear of waiting rooms. Everything in there to me is infected with something worse then what I have. The magazines are tainted little colored fluff ball homes to viruses and bacteria. I don’t even want to think about the incontinence of the old woman sitting in the chair up front. When offered a seat I politely decline and smile half-heartedly at the nurse.

As I begin to gaze around me I notice that federal health care is a smorgasbord for people-watching. There is a woman completely polished, up swept auburn hair with a jewel clip that perfectly match the rhinestones on her blouse and sandals. She clutches her Coach purse like the dingy man sitting next to her is going to run off with it. His hair was stringy with grease and the whiskers poking out of his aged face pined for a razor. He is there with what apparently is his daughter, much younger than 16 as when she was called for her prescription (which I recognized immediately as birth control), he had to sign for it. She wore jeans marked with dirt and jaggedly torn, for I presume “fashion”, at the knee. Her long black hair was swept over her face as if she didn’t want anyone to see that she was there and yet it seemed to draw a mysterious value to her. Looking over at the tween with full distaste was an older woman who with each cough you could just feel each air sac in her lung collapsing. If her grimy teeth and stained fingers didn’t tell the tale, the pack of Camels sticking out of the corner of her purse did.

The bullhorn of her coughing was immediately deafened with the sound of three screaming and unruly children bursting into the waiting room. The oldest one appearing to be the ringleader shouts out in the middle of the waiting room, “I farted!”. Her glorified, and flatulent I might add, smirk faded quickly as her almost 400 lb. mother waddles into the waiting room with the threat of a scolding on her face. At least, I think that is what the face was, it was honestly hard to tell between her heavy breathing and the sweat beading up on her forehead. At this point, I’m mortified.

I left the doctor’s office with the simple diagnosis of a “cold” and some pharmacutical treats to “cure” the issue…as well as a new outlook on the human race. I’m not sure where the world is headed, but if the waiting room is a sample of our future, the outlook is about as gloomy as this cold. *sniffle*


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