Love and Ear Wax

I saw my Doctor for the first time in two years.

She hugs me sitting on a table, wearing a paper gown and nothing else.

Placing her hands on her hips she gives me a look of exasperation, "Where have you been?"

"Busy," I reply. "I got married."

"Oh," she excitedly replies and claps her hands. "Tell me about it."

So I do.

I describe Sarah and the girls ... she asks for updates on my kids and I catch her up.

She starts poking me, feeling me up and sticking a light in my ears as I'm talking.

"You got ear wax," she states grabbing what appear to be plastic pliers, "keep talking ... you look real happy. I'd like to meet Sarah."

"Well she tried to be your patient," I say holding my ear open as she excavates, "but you were full so she shopped elsewhere."

That's when she jerks the wax out of my ear ... my ass jumping off the table as both fists clinch and I'm ready to take her out.

"Oh that's a shame," she says, "Other ear."

"How long is this going to take? I got things to do."

Grabbing hold of something inside my ear with the plastic pliers, she scolds, "You haven't been here in over two years ... it's going to take a while."

"I can't help it the American Health Care system is the most dysfunctional of any first world country," I say.

"Where you been getting your prescriptions filled?" she sweetly coos toying with something inside my ear. "Your Blood Pressure and Cholesterol levels are remarkably consistent."

"Canada," I answer. "So much cheaper and easier than drugs in the States. AND ... they deliver."

"Really?" she asks ripping something out of head.

I come out of the gown ready to fight!

"Get back on the table," she commands, "turn on your side and grab your knees to your chest."

"You are not,"  I say as she puts lubricant on a gloved finger.

She did.

"I want to see you again in a month," she says after I calm down.

"Absolutely not," I answer.

"Here are your American prescriptions," she says handing me several hundred pieces of paper.

"Great," I say throwing them on the table as I pull up my jeans.

"Hey Micheal," she says, turning at the door, wearing the white Doctor's coat over a red and blue dress while standing in heals, "you really do look great."

"You would know," I answer ... pulling my UGA tee back on, "you've seen inside of me from one end to the other."

"That's what I mean," she smiles. "On the inside you look perfect."

And I know exactly what she's talking about.