Question of the Day!

The mostly white sterile room is chilly. The paper slips and crinkles on the leather bench slash table I sit on in the center of the room. A petite young woman of thirty-something in a long white lab coat enters after a soft knock. She serves a faint smile with her greeting.

"Good Morning, Mr. Clark. How are you feeling today?"

My flippant attempts to ease the pulpital tension are instantly lame: "Doc, isn't that what you are supposed to be telling me?" I said, hoping my porcelain grin would restore some ease to the room.

Her eyes cut to the laptop screen attached to a swinging metal robotic contraption bolted to the room wall.