Damn Doctors

Doctoring might be a better racket than lawyering.

In the space of ten minutes he tells me I’m a fat bastard, pokes a hole in me, makes things hurt worse than they did before, writes a bill for nearly $200 and tells me I’m entitled to spend $10 on medicine and another $25 in a couple of weeks so he can have another look and either tell me things are peachy keen or cause more pain.

And people wonder why I’m so reluctant to go to the doctor.

This entry was posted in Reality is a Harsh Mistress. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *