The Walking Dead at the Doctor’s Office

When I went to the doctor’s office the other day, I got there early — before they even opened the doors. I was parked in a space right in front, beside a man and woman in their SUV. They were both smoking cigarettes while waiting. That scene made me chuckle — I bet they weren’t there to be checked for lung cancer. (I’m easily entertained.)

Once the clinic staff opened the front doors, eight people went in immediately. Only one other person there looked sick, and boy howdy was she pathetic. She was probably between 18 and 25 years old — it was hard to tell, as she was bundled up pretty fully — and another, older woman was with her (her mother, perhaps). This poor girl was just eat up with something terrible. Her eyeballs were red, her eye sockets were black, and her face was pale. She was shivering, she was coughing, and at one point she started crying. The crying is the only thing that convinced me she wasn’t a zombie.

I felt sick, but she seemed to be absolutely beyond ill. When they called her name, she could only slowly get up out of the chair and shuffle to the office door. Her mother (I’m going with that assumption) helped her like she’d help a 90-year-old woman. I was real sorry for that young woman — whatever she was going through was far worse than the little thing I was feeling.

But the situation also made me wonder just how safe is going to a doctor’s office — I sure as hell wouldn’t want to catch that while waiting in the lobby. I could almost feel the germs radiating off her like neutrons off of plutonium.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com