A Trip to the Doctor

A story inspired by a news article which can be found here.

“Doctor, doctor, give me the news!” Mr. Ferguson exclaimed as I walked into the room.

           

“The news, Mr. Ferguson, is that you have a rash in your mouth,” I said.  “Nothing more.”

           

“That’s impossible.” Mr. Ferguson looked crestfallen.  “I’m a biologist, and I know when something is a rash, and when something is a parasitic worm burrowing through my face.”

          

 “Do you know how rare the condition you’re talking about is?” I asked.  I hoped he didn’t actually know, because I didn’t.  I’m an oral surgeon, I get paid $300,000 a year to fix teeth, not to keep up with the field of parasitic worms.  I’m too busy playing croquet on weekends, or comparing 401k’s at the lodge.  Even worms sounds more exciting then my life right now.

          

 “Very rare, I imagine,” he replied.  “But not impossible.”

          

 He was still angling for this worm thing.  “I’m sorry, but all of the evidence points towards a simple rash.”

          

 “But it isn’t a rash!”

           

I was getting tired of this.  My head was throbbing from a massive hangover, I really just wanted to get out of there.  I would have loved to hop in my car and drive away from it all, but I knew I wouldn’t.  I’d just go back home, back to the same old wife, and the same old family, and the same old whiskey to get to bed at night.  “I’m telling you, you’ll be fine in a couple of weeks.  It will clear up.”

           

“But I was so sure…” Mr. Ferguson trailed off.

           

“It would have certainly been a fascinating case,” I threw the man a bone.  “You probably could have gotten a paper out of it.  But the truth is usually much more mundane.  Life is boring sometimes.”

          

 “Thank you for your time, Doctor,” he said.

          

 I trudged out of the room and sighed.  I could see a road sign from a window.  Las Vegas, 500 miles.  I shook my head and walk to the next patient’s room.  Life is boring sometimes.