I haven't been in Las Vegas very long. So of course, it's my
worst nightmare to have a medical emergency in a state
I am unfamiliar with. Just like dreams, nightmares do
come true. I went to the doctor the other day;
because there is a pretty strong chance I have
appendicitis or something that is equivalently
painful. This was the first time I have ever
been to a doctor out here, so when my
doctor introduced himself as Staples,
I knew I was in trouble.
After checking in and waiting in the room for over an hour,
my doctor emerged in a silky black suit (I didn't know
these existed either), a silver belt buckle that said
something I won't even type here. And crocodile
boots shiny enough to match his outfit.
This should have alarmed me, but for some reason it didn't.
Looks can be deceiving, because this doctor was very nice.
Unfortunately, he neglected to tell me he was taking off
for a week, and I would need to find another doctor to
read my emergency x-ray results he ordered the
previous day. I don't know why it takes triple
the time to get things done here, but it
just does. I want to love this state, but
I can't. It's cheating on me with
a stripper.
The moral of this short story is: if you are having a
medical problem, don't assume your doctor will
be wearing a white coat and stethoscope
around his/her neck. Instead, look for a
guy named Staples who is dressed
straight out of a movie and might
abandon his practice to jet off
at a moments notice.
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