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Free Preview – UPS and DOWNS

602393_book9Since I’m not a Muslim Islamist extremist who wants to kill all infidels, I can’t imagine what I would do with 72 virgins if I were such a person. At my age I’m lucky to take care of my one wife! Besides, virgins, what a mess! Before I really get started with this book, I think it is important to focus on the craziness of everyday happenings which lack any semblance of logic or reasoning. Let me recount a very recent incident in which my wife suffered a traumatic blow to her head, and don’t you dare think I did it! This trauma prompted us to seek medical attention, so we went to a local hospital emergency room for tests. Of course, there are ALL of those forms which must be completed before you get treated in an emergency room. How much sense does that make? For heaven’s sake, you’re in an emergency room (ER) and in need of medical attention! Who in their right mind has the time or the physical ability to fill out these forms? We thought we were in luck, because the doctor in the hospital ER had been our family practitioner. Grace was experiencing a hypertensive crisis, so he ordered a CT scan of her brain, and then he made sure my wife got in to see a neurologist the very next morning. This doctor understands the system, because he told us months before he moved to the hospital, if you want to stay healthy, stay away from doctors. By the way, he not only is a physician, but he is also an attorney. When the next morning came, we were in the office of the neurologist. Of course, we didn’t see him right away, because we had mounds more of paperwork to complete. My wife, Grace, is a retired nurse practitioner and physician’s assistant (PA-C), so she is used to this paperwork nonsense and medical foolishness. I, on the other hand, have very little patience with the completion of forms. She usually does it for me and herself. When her parents were alive, who lived with us, she even took care of those repugnant, redundant forms for them as well. Finally, we were led back to the doctor, who will remain nameless, because I hate lawsuits. There he was in all his glory, unshaven, suspenders, and food stains all over his dirty tee-shirt. In minutes he made it clear that he had been doing his work for 40 years, and to me, I wasn’t sure he’d ever changed clothes. He was sick himself, sitting there sucking and chewing his lozenges, and the place wreaked of various odiferous smells. Before I tell you about his diagnosis which he stated in less than three minutes to my wife and me, let me tell you a little about her. She not only is very bright, but she is truly an extravert, wild, wacky, and funny, with tons of energy, like the energizer bunny, in other words, she is very gregarious and outgoing. You should see her on a dance floor! She is without a doubt the most UP person I have ever known. This elderly neurologist had reviewed her CT scan from the emergency room the day before and said he saw no indication of a life-threatening disease or serious injury, and Grace handed him a typewritten list of her symptoms. He rejected her documentation out of hand and said, “I want you to tell me what your symptoms are. You know you look much younger than your age, and so do you.” Then, he was making reference to me. He continued as he addressed Grace, “You are suffering from depression! That’s something we can take care of.” Now, if he had said anxiety and/or hypertension, I could have bought that if he had examined her, because she like her late father before her can definitely be classified as worriers, but no, he had to call her depressed. If she is depressed, then I hope I never see her in a normal happy state, because she would definitely be more than I could handle. As you read this, I bet you’re thinking that I’m embellishing and exaggerating my account of what went down. I don’t blame you if you’re thinking those thoughts, but this is not a fictional account of this bazaar encounter. This is the way it really happened. You can’t make this stuff up. Can you imagine how many women he has doped up over the years, and how many more he will treat this way, at least as long as he lasts as a neurologist. If I have ever met a physician who should retire, and I have, this guy needs to find a fishing pole and a lake filled with hungry cold-blooded aquatic vertebrates which do not need to be psychoanalyzed–just caught, cleaned, cooked, and eaten–unlike what Louis Zamperini and his raft mates had to do during 47 days of floating aimlessly on the ocean in the movie Unbroken (2014).