"Physician, heal thyself" (LUKE. IV)

.....When I grow up I want to be a dermatologist. I just got back from one and he cauterized or committed surgery on my arm for what the lab said was a squamous cell carcinoma. I don't know who invented that name, but it sounds a lot like an Indian princess. Not the Indian princess who owns a gas station, but the Indian princess who owns a casino. Anyway, I must have had at least a dozen of those squamouses, caused I suspect from too much time in the sun; he must rub his hands in glee each time he sees a patient coming in with a tan--especially in Florida. It's a good thing that I took out a cancer insurance policy just before I retired. It only costs me $21 every six months, but I have gotten back several thousand dollars for my squamouses which I suppose are considered cancerous. As a matter of fact, I've gotten back more than what the doctor charged. I don't know how that happens, but I'm not prepared to question it. But back to wanting to be a dermatologist instead of a blogger. Every time I go to him, he schpritzes something cold all over my arms and legs and then digs out a couple of spots to send to the lab where no doubt they will find one or more to be squamous cells. I believe that for every blemish the doctor schpritzes, he collects compensation--thus he can just schpritz to his heart's content until he feels that the patient will get suspicious of his motive or competence.

.....Besides being a dermatologist, I believe that I could make at least as much money by becoming a psychiatrist. It's probably an easier profession anyway. All you have to do is sit back and listen to a lot of heart rending sad tales while you nod your head up and down, and for each nod charge $100. Rhoda speaks to me quite often and I just nod and nod, but I don't make a dime. The doctor I would least like to be is possibly a urologist. My urologist reminds me of a Hairy Ainus, one of the Indigenous Caucasoid people of Japan. For each rubber glove he uses, he charges a fee, but even so, it could get very boring, and he uses a score of rubber gloves each day. No, I think I'll forever be an Ed.D, and rue the day I was steered in that direction. I could have been living in a country club with many an amenity if I had chosen, like Robert Frost, a different path.

.....Since this started out to be a "doctor" blog, I might as well discuss my dentist. About a week or so ago, as I was slurping my soup, two teeth just fell right out of my mouth. For a moment I was in shock. They simply fell right out of my mouth, and they happened to be the teeth which anchored my "partial". I believe they were teeth that were glued to my mouth, and that the glue wore out. Now I tried calling the V.A. to get an appointment for a DDS. to fix the problem, but couldn't succeed before March 31st. I cannot wait that long because all I can eat is soft stuff--like pasta and Mallomars, not really healthy stuff like chocolate cake and prescription medicine. It was Voltaire who rightly said, "Doctors are men who prescribe medicines of which they know little, to cure diseases of which they know less, in human beings of whom they know nothing." And so to bed.