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Meet the Columnist

Columnist, Sheila Moss, is humor writer from  Tennessee. She writes  a weekly human interest column about daily life and the funny things that happen to everyone.

   She has written for  the Daily News of Kingsport,   Griffin Journal, Oakridge Now, Atlanta Woman Magazine, Aberdeen Examiner, Angleton Advocate,  and Smyrna AM, a supplement of the Murfreesboro Daily News Journal. She has been published by Voyageur Press, McGraw Hill, and the good folks at Guidepost Books.  Her articles have appeared in numerous anthologies and other publications, both in print and online.

    She is a former board member and past  Editor of  the Columnists.com, website of  the National Society of Newspaper Columnists, the oldest and largest professional organization for columnists. She is the Web Editor of Southern
Humorists.com
  and  a founder of the Southern Humorists writers' organization. She is writer, editor, and webmaster of HumorColumnist.com

    To carry her weekly column in your newspaper, or to republish an article, please contact her. It's that easy. 

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Doctor Will See You Now....
 


The Doctor Will See You Now


I went to the doctor yesterday. Somehow doctorís offices just donít seem to be what they used to be. They have become so automated that I felt like I should be on a conveyor belt - or maybe on one of those rides that amusement parks have where you jump onto a moving sidewalk and into a waiting car while the ride continues right on without stopping.

"Hello, Iím here for my appointment."

"Sign in on the clipboard", says the receptionist, as she runs my insurance card through the copy machine. "We have 26 doctors and hundreds of patients every day; just give this paper to your nurse."

I step onto the moving sidewalk and hop into a snazzy amusement-like car. It gives me an extra twirl as I proceed into the waiting area, grabbing a magazine from a table as we pass. I flip through the pages and watch the other patients disappear through a door as their names are called. Finally, my car nears the entrance. I toss my magazine aside, as my name is called and I proceed through the door, where a nurse grabs my ticketÖ erÖ insurance information from my hand.

"First room on the left", she says as my car twirls around into the room. "Any changes in your meds? Are you still taking, this, that, and the other," as she reads off the list from my medical record.

"Yes, yes, yes", I say. She does a quick blood pressure check, takes my temperature, and my weight flashes before my eyes in red digital numbers.

Before I can ask any questions, my car whirls around and heads back for the hallway where a long row of chairs waits for the unlucky patients pulled off of the assembly line for various medical tests. I proceed slowly past them down the hall until I come to an empty examination room.

"The doctor will be with you in a moment."

My car whirls and spins into the exam room. The doctor enters in a white coat with my chart in his hand.

"How are you today?"

"I feel pretty good," I say.

The doctor frowns. Wrong answer, I conclude. I try again as the car spins towards the back of the room and the stainless steel sink with the funny faucet. I look at the countertop full of cotton balls, tongue depressors, long swabs and rubber gloves. I wonder what he will do to me if I donít get the answer right.

"Iím not tense any moreÖ Iím sleeping betterÖ and I donít have any nausea at all."

"Good!" he smiles. "We will leave you on the same medication."

I feel relieved as my car spins around and passes the examination table without stopping. The doctor writes out a prescription and hands it to me, giving my car an extra whirl as I head out the door.

"Come back in three months," he calls. I nod and wave goodbye as my car swivels and heads up the steep incline toward the large exit sign, and then drops rapidly down the long hall to the check-out desk.

As I reach bottom, a medical clerk stares into a computer screen that flashes the story of my life, medically and financially. "We will file this with your insurance company," she says as fingers fly and computer keys click.

"Iíll make an appointment for your next visit." She passes me an appointment card and holds the car steady as I unfasten my seat belt and jump off the assembly line and back into reality.

I head for the elevator to the parking garage feeling a little shaken and wondering what in the heck happened to me. Was that for real or did I just imagine it? But I must have been at the doctorís office Ė I have a prescription in one hand and an appointment card in the other! 

Maybe Iím sicker than I thought Ė or maybe Iím okay, and itís the medical world that needs a reality check.


Copyright 2001 Sheila Moss

 
 



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