I'm So Mad

I just got totally gypped by the girls over at the GI clinic. The legacy of this mad running around the country is a mild episode of colitis, what the doctor calls a flare. My Doctor. In whom I have  a total, mind numbing, knee-trembling irrational but delicious romantic school-girl crush. One-sided and inappropriate as it is.

He’s this mittle-europa hunk of nearly bald and unpronounceable Hungarian from Croatia who has been treating my nether regions for years ever since the days when he was new at the clinic and the guy you would get to see when the big name DR that was nominally in charge was booked months in advance which was usually. Fine by me.  All he had to do was roll those rrrs and say vat ve vant to do in dis case and I would hear bells and see pink emanations and do exactly what he said, which was to lie down on my back and pull up my sweater while he would palpate my abdomen. Pretty much as good as it gets.

I know I did it to myself, the nurse didn’t really, but when she said she would tell Dr S**** my symptoms and get me in to see him the very next day I took her at her word. SO much of my difficulty in this world comes from me hearing what I want to hear in stead of what is actually happening I am embarrassed to tell you.

Imagine my surprise when the exam room door opened, after I had set my alarm at 4:30 in order to be properly bathed and bedewed and ornamented with my prettiest underwear, just for confidence you understand, when instead of the dishwater bald pate of my beloved there was peeking around said exam-room door some unidentified and unnecessary full head of raven black hair I would just as soon seen in perdition. I was indignant.

“You’re not Lee” I exclaimed, and then spent the next half hour explaining without giving away my secret infatuation so as not to reveal what an old sap I really am. This was of course the associate MD who takes the acute stuff because my dear Dr S***** is now the fully booked part of the clinic and unless you book 6 weeks out you never see. I knew that. I just didn’t want to know that. So I did not. And I did try womanfully to listen to what I was told, and to do what I was told, but in order to make that work I had to re-tell myself and roll some rrr’s in the process and mix up w and v and the whole works.

I wuz robbed.