Checkup

I went to the doctor’s the othe day for a checkup.  I’m not a fan of going to the doctor’s, who is?  I don’t like even visiting people in the hospital.  Maybe it has something to do with all the time I spent there as a child.  Growing up I would have to go every six months.  I’d be at the hospital for hours, mostly waiting.  When they did finally call my name, I’d have to wait longer for the doctor.  When he did come, he’d listen to heart and take my blood presure.  Then he had me walk up and down the hall a few times.  Some with my crutches, some without.  Within minutes all the docters and nurses that were crammed into that skinny hallway was watching me.  They all talked about me and made comments to each other.  I felt like a organgrinder’s monkey.  Now a days when I go, I don’t have to do all that.  I come to realize that going for checkups back then was helpful for both of us.  To see how I was doing but just as important so that they can learn from me.  Something I didn’t realize as a kid.

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