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by Mike W
Rated: E · Fiction · Comedy · #2182856
A visit to the doctor brings bad news.
The doctor will see you now. Of course no one says that anymore. You use a touch screen to register your arrival and then your name comes up on a digital display. But still that’s better than actually speaking to the receptionists who are all uncompromising fascists. And the doctors are just kids it seems to me. I have shirts older than my doctor. He listens intently to my myriad symptoms then speaks to me in the reassuring tones of a media-trained politician. It’s bad news. I have a degenerative disease with no known cure: middle age.
© Copyright 2019 Mike W (mswareing at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2182856