Tasya
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“I really don’t like your phrasing doctor.” Hugh said and stepped off the scale. “I know that I am not a muscular movie star, but the way you are speaking is quite demeaning.”
“As I said before,” the doctor replied and waved a dismissive hand, “don’t mind me. I’m just speaking out loud.”
“But you are the doctor,” Hugh said as he tried to remain calm and move the conversation in line with logical reasoning, “You should be giving me professional consultation, not speaking your mind as if you were at a social gather —”
“Please don’t be so sensitive.” Dr. Carni said. “Let us take your blood pressure and then we can talk about why you have visited today, does that sound good?”
Hugh took a deep breath and stole a look at his watch. They have been spending too much time on these routine procedures, which Hugh was suspecting weren’t necessary.
“Let’s move on.” Hugh said, giving the doctor the benefit of the doubt that maybe he was being too sensitive to the doctor’s words.
“Wonderful!” The doctor’s intonation hit a crescendo that may not have been intended. “Come over to this chair and I’ll take your blood pressure and then we will be all done with your biometrics.”
Hugh mentally sighed at the fact of having to return to the torture chair, but he did as the doctor ordered.
“Relax and roll up your sleeve.” Dr. Carni said and took the blood pressure measuring device from an adjacent drawer. “I’m going to wrap this sphygmomanometer around your bicep… Do you know what a sphygmomanometer is, Mr. Mechta?” The doctor gave a curt giggle. “Can you even pronounce it?”
“I imagine that it is the instrument that you are holding right now and will be using to measure my blood pressure. As for your second question, no I cannot pronounce it because that word is not in my daily lexicon.”
“That’s a pity, Mr. Mechta.”
The doctor fastened the cuff around Hugh’s arm, jammed the stethoscope in place and started to squeeze the pump. Hugh felt the pressure build around his arm, limiting the circulation of blood to his fingertips.
Hugh noticed that the doctor forgot his clipboard and pen next to the scale, on the other side of the room.
“I see,” the doctor mused, “just like your weight, not that bad. A bit low. I bet you get woozy and almost faint after a hot shower. Perhaps you get lightheaded when you stand up too quickly, holding onto the armrest as the world spins around you.” The doctor laughed out loud and continued. “I admit, I made that joke with full intent. I couldn't help myself! Funny, don't you think?”
Hugh instantly shot up from his chair and ripped off the sphygmomanometer.
“That's enough Mr. Carnie!” Hugh didn't call him ‘doctor’ for he felt that Mr. Carni had stepped over the boundaries that demarked proper professionalism.
“Whatever do you mean? I told you not to mind my words, as I sometimes speak aloud.” The doctor replied, holding his hands up in a defensive position. “I feel that you are overreacting.”
“I didn't come here to be belittled or be subjected to your underhanded jokes.” Hugh shot back with anger visible on his face and disdain in his voice. “Imagine if I had made such remarks towards you! You know what? I think I shall!”
Dr. Carni stood there, arms crossed, and Hugh wasn't even sure that he was listening to him. His face was that of someone lost in a daydream.
Hugh didn't care, he proceeded with his speech.
“I could say to you—look at that big belly of yours! Be careful so as to not knock all those expensive prescription drugs, which I'm sure line your pockets for a fancy holiday, off the table when you turn around to pick up the clipboard you forgot over there! I could also mention that thinning head of hair you have. Look at it! It's so thin that even a family of sparrows desperate for housing in the winter would avoid it!”
Hugh's pulse was racing, and he felt that time had dilated. He had never lashed out at someone like this before. He felt embarrassed of himself, but also proud of himself for standing up to the doctor.
The doctor's arms did not unfold, nor did he move a single muscle in his body, but it was becoming evident to Hugh that the doctor had been listening to every one of his words. Hugh's embarrassment and pride shifted to fear as the doctor's face started to reconfigure itself. Dr. Carni's mouth and eyebrows twisted, bent, and curled to morph his visage into an expression that conveyed something hovering between murderous and ecstatic.
“Mr. Mechta! Your words are slanderous, defamatory, cruel and just plain hurtful!” Dr. Carni roared through warped and undulating lips. “I am offended by your insensitivity and lack of manners! I must ask you to leave at this very instant!”
Hugh didn't require any persuasion. He made straight for the door but stayed his hand on the doorknob, seeing that Dr. Carni's clipboard was within reach. In one bound, Hugh took the clipboard in hand and flipped through his files and notes on his biometrics. Hugh didn't search for long because the files were not files at all, but blank sheets littered with weaving spirals and wavy concentric circles.
Hugh threw the clipboard at Dr. Carni's feet and left the room. He vowed never to go ‘over there' again.
The next morning Hugh called another doctor's office and scheduled an appointment.
To his astonishment he was offered an appointment for not only the same day but in a few hours from his phone call. He accepted the offer without hesitation, glad that he would be able to put his experience with Dr. Carni behind him.
Hugh arrived at the doctor's office, and everything went smoothly. He didn't even have time to inspect the layout of the waiting room, the movie being played on the muted television, or whether the architect of crippling chairs had distributed his wears to this clinic. Upon walking into the office, the receptionist greeted him with a professional smile and beckoned him to her desk.
“Mr. Hugh Mechta, the doctor is waiting for you in room 27.” The receptionist said just as Hugh stopped at her desk. “Please go down this corridor. You will pass a painting of a black Spaniel, and room 27 will be directly on your left.”
Hugh was astonished by how quickly everything was moving, from the same day appointment to being directed to doctor without a second of waiting. He had no desire to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he thanked the receptionist and asked no further questions. He set off down the corridor in search of the painting and his assigned room.