Its Sad How Much Time I Waste at the Doctor’s
Yesterday I went to my doctor (for the 381293th time this year) only to find out that I shrunk. Great, now I’m 4’11” again. Six months ago I had reached one of my main goals in life: to reach 5’. Now those dreams are crushed. And I know it wasn’t a mistake because I begged the doctor to measure my height after the nurse and he got the same results. Great.
Then it was time for a blood test. It’s actually strange, because I always have some relation to the person giving me the test. The last two times, both of the people spoke French. I sang for one of the women in French and she understood every word! The other person was so excited speaking French to me that she stuck me in the wrong place 5 times. I didn’t even feel it though because I was distracted too. When I walked in the woman asked me, “What’s your favorite subject in school?”
“French,” I replied hoping that she would say something like, “I speak French too!” or “Parle-tu Francais?”
Instead, she said, “Oh that’s cool. A lot of people hate foreign languages. I dropped out of Spanish as soon as I could.”
She didn’t speak French and I was disappointed so I started singing quietly to myself.
“You’re a singer?” She said, as I thought she was searching for conversation.
“Yes I love to sing. I actually go to a camp where I sing in a jazz choir.”
“Would it happen to be Usdan?”
“Why yes it would! How did you know? Did you go to Usdan?”
“No, but my daughter does. She was in the violin concert today.”
“Oh I saw the concert! It was great! What’s her name? I mean, not that I’d know her because I don’t play an instrument…”
“Her name is Mallory.”
“Oh my gosh! Mallory is my friend’s, friend’s, friend. I see her sometimes.”
Then we talked for a while about Usdan and I was content that my tradition of relating with nurses who give me blood tests had continued. If only I could relate so easily with normal people in my life…
