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Do You Have A Boyfriend? |  - Discrimination

George Is My Hero |

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This isn’t George. But it totally could be.

Most doctors’ offices are banal at best. Plain walls, assorted health information pamphlets, and sick people. Not exactly the height of hilarity. Not at my doctors office though. At my doctors office there is George. Well, to be clear, George is there only 3-4 times a week. You might think that George is a doctor or nurse or receptionist. You would be wrong. George is a patient. George is the best patient. George is my hero.

3-4 times a week, or whenever the fancy strikes him, George, who is well into his eighties if not his nineties, gets into his car and drives to the doctors office. Sometimes he has a question or needs to refill a prescription, and sometimes, so I suspect, he just wants someone to talk to.

As I was waiting to see my doctor yesterday, I got lucky, because George walked in. He has a very distinct walk- a sort of bouncy shuffle. He was wearing a flannel shirt, flannel jacket, and jeans. I like to think he is a retired lumberjack. George bounce shuffles to a seat and then promptly falls asleep. I realize then that I am in for a real treat and I desperately hope my doctor is too busy to see me right away. After a few minutes, George wakes up and bounce shuffles to the receptionist desk. She greets him with a “Hi George!” and asks what she can do for him. This is what happens next…..

George: I need to know when I’m supposed to come here next.

Receptionist: Ok George, let me look it up.

George: I also want to know if I’m supposed to get more of these pills. (He pulls out two bottles of medicine from his awesome flannel jacket)

Receptionist: I don’t know George, let me check. How often do you take them?

George: Hardly ever. (The bottles are almost empty)

Receptionist: Well, there were 14 and now there are only 6 so you have taken about half the bottle.

George: This pill broke in half. It’s cheap. Those other ones are expensive but these here are the cheapos.

Receptionist: How have you been feeling George?

George: Oh, ok. All my scabs are just about dried up and falling off.

Receptionist: Let me go check with the doctor and see about those pills.

George bounce shuffles back to his seat and falls back to sleep. I am amazed at how quickly he falls asleep. And also terrified that this man still operates a vehicle. After about 10 minutes the receptionist comes back to the desk. George wakes up and shuffles over and then this happened….

George: Did you know I have a card in my wallet with a number on it and when you call it they come and pick up your stinking dead body.

Receptionist: No. Why do you have that?

George: Because it’s free!

Receptionist: Free?

George: Yeah, through Texas A&M. They just come and pick up your dead body within a few hours.

(At this point I realize George has decided to donate his body to science. SO. FREAKING. AWESOME.)

Receptionist: What does your family think about that?

George: Who the hell cares? Who the hell wants to drive all the way from Wisconsin to see a dead body anyway? I sure as hell wouldn’t.

Receptionist: George! They might want to have a funeral.

George: What they hell do I care? I’ll be dead.

Receptionist: Ok George, the nurse can see you now about getting you some more pills.

George: Oh, she want to have a date with me.

At this point, I am doubled over trying not to laugh out loud and reaching for my notebook so I will remember everything to blog about later. This guy was quite the character. He was so fantastically himself. I may have fallen in love a bit. I mean, he is donating his body to science and talking about his scabs. You have to love that guy right?

On his way out George looks over at me and says: “They are trying to pill me to death.”

Basically, the best parting line ever. Well done sir. Well done.

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