**Warning: these entries may be graphic and, hopefully, frightening. Keep in mind this is merely fiction. No humans (or animals) have or will be harmed in the production of this blog. All names have been chosen at random and are not meant to represent anyone, living or dead. Any similarities are purely coincidental**
10/8/13 9:45PM
My follow-up appointment this morning was an
outrage. Before Dr. Jenkins met with her
untimely demise, I was referred to a specialist. He ordered nearly as many tests as his
colleague and clearly he is just as useless.
From here on out I will be referring to him as “Dick” because he’s
hardly earned the respect to deserve the title doctor, or even “Doc”, and his
last name looks like someone vomited alphabet soup on a prescription pad; so
Dick it is. Dick proceeded to tell me that
he doesn’t know what is wrong and “pain is subjective”. I wanted to ask him how subjective his pain
would be if I jammed a chainsaw up his ass and started it up, but I suspect that
might raise a red flag or two. Instead I
smiled and said, “thank you” when he handed me a prescription for Ativan and suggested
that perhaps I am experiencing too much stress.
Looks like Dick is going to be our next contestant on
Doctors Must Die. I drove back this
afternoon just before the office closed.
After Dick got into his brand-new BMW and raced through the parking lot,
I slowly tailed him. Offing Dick is
going to be a bigger challenge. He lives
in a gated community, guarded by private security. I relish the thought of honing my skills and
branching out into uncharted territory but I need to do more research. More later…..
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