A visit to the doctor

I was not feeling very well, so I decided to see the doctor. Before I left the house, despite the pain, I showered and dressed carefully. It was a little difficult, but I knew it would help.

At the clinic the nurse at reception greeted me smilingly.

"How lovely to see you, Ms BadAunt," she said. "And what beautiful earrings!"

"Thank you," I said.

"Are you here to see the doctor?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," I said.

"You will have to wait about twenty minutes, I'm afraid," she said. "He's rather busy today. Is that all right?"

"It's fine," I said.

"You know how it is," she added confidentially. "Some cases take a little longer than others. I do appreciate your understanding. Please, take a seat."

"Thank you," I said, and sat.

After about twenty minutes the door to the doctor's office opened, and I heard voices from within.

"Mrs Wilson, I hope you are convinced now that that is the most gorgeous hairdo I have ever seen on you. Just marvelous! And I really do think you should wear orange more often."

"Oh, thank you doctor," a woman's voice murmured. "Thank you so much."

"My pleasure," said the doctor. "We always look forward to your visits. You add colour and zest to our lives here. I am sure you must brighten the lives of everybody around you."

"My husband doesn't seem to agree," said Mrs Wilson. "He says I'm mutton dressed as lamb, and I may as well stop bothering because nobody looks at me anyway."

"I can assure you he is wrong," said the doctor. "It would probably be helpful if you could persuade him to come and see me. I think his eyes need testing."

"Well he DID say his eyes hurt, this morning when he saw me," said Mrs Wilson, as they emerged into the waiting room. "Perhaps you are right. I'll see what I can do."

"In the meantime, any time you feel the headache coming on, take one of these, and come back any time for another dose," said the doctor, handing her a fat envelope.

On her way out Mrs Wilson stopped to to touch up the makeup covering her black eye and to smooth her orange hair in the mirror by the door. She plucked a piece of lint off her matching orange jumpsuit shoulder. Then she raised her head, smiled radiantly at the waiting patients, and left, leaving a slight orange afterglow as the door closed behind her.

The doctor returned to his office. The nurse called my name, and I went through to join him.

"Ms BadAunt!" cried the doctor, his face lighting up. "Have a seat. What a pleasure to see you! No wonder the nurse was looking so happy! Do you know how much we look forward to seeing you here? Do you have this effect on everybody you meet?"

"Well..." I said modestly, sitting down.

"And is that a new blouse? It's gorgeous!"

"Thank you so much, doctor," I said. "You're looking rather spiffy yourself. You've had a haircut, haven't you?"

"Oh, how observant of you!" said the doctor. "You know, this is one of the most admirable things about you. You are such a thoughtful, observant person. And really, I must say that colour does suit you. Look at how it brings out the red in your hair! Wonderful!"

We smiled at each other. Then I frowned slightly, and winced.

"Red?" I said. "Hair?" Then I remembered why I was there.

"Oh," I said. "That's what I'm here about, really. I wonder ... well, actually my hair doesn't normally have red in it. It's possible that I might need a few stitches. I slipped going down stairs this morning, and ... well, I hate to ask for something so mundane, but it's rather painful, and no matter how often I rinse it just won't stop bleeding. Could you have a look at it? Also, come to think of it, I'm feeling just a touch dizzy, and ... "

I slid off the chair to the floor.

When I came round the stitches were in my head and there was a very tidy turban tied over the bandage.

"Your favourite colour," said the nurse as she pinned it in place. "Burgundy red. It matches your blouse. The doctor is right, you know. It looks great on you."

"Oh, thank you," I said weakly, sitting up. "Sorry for bleeding all over the floor."

"No problem," she said. "Your blood is a lovely colour." She smiled. "The doctor had to take care of another patient," she added. "But he asked me to let you know that when you pass out, you do it with extraordinary grace and style. He said he had never seen such an elegant swoon."

"How sweet of him to say so," I said. "It's so nice to be appreciated. I'd been practicing all morning. Do thank him for me."

"He also left this for you," she said, handing me an envelope. "Take one or two every four hours."

"Thank you," I said.

I went home.

Four hours later I opened the envelope and took out a slip of paper. I unfolded it carefully, and read:

BadAunt, you are a splendid person!

I smiled. I was feeling better already.




(Inspiring link)