At the doctor’s

Yesterday I went to my doctor to get the stitches removed from my toe. I had to go to the open consultation as there were no free appointments to book, and when I arrived, there were at least 20 people waiting. Great! Luckily I had taken a book with me (well, I never go anywhere without a book); I could have brought the Bible along thinking about the three hours I have to wait. But for my big surprise and for even bigger irritation of the 20 other patients waiting, the doctor took me in almost right away.

I had saved a morphine pill for this occasion, but as I hadn’t expected to get in so soon, I hadn’t taken it yet. I hurried to take the pill, but of course it didn’t work right away. I have a very very low pain limit, but having all the people in the waiting room, I tried to control my screaming.

“So here we go, the first stitch.”
“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh…….”
“Good girl, the next one.”
“Ooooooooohhhhhhhhh…….”
“Still a good girl, not crying at all. The third one.”
“Oh, oh, oh, aaaaaaahhh……..”

In the end of the session the morphine begun to work, and I started to breathe normally. This wasn’t that bad; I hadn’t fainted or strangled my doctor. When I left him, I was smiling big time as I didn’t feel anything on my foot. People in the waiting room were looking at me very curiously and the doctor’s secretary asked:
“Everything okay?”
I could only think about the wonderful effect of the morphine:
“Yes, yes, just what I needed. And Doctor Thomas was very gentle, as always.”