Posted by: Marisa | August 14, 2012

My Fractured Elbow

The doctor at the weekend clinic thought I was a battered drug abuser looking for pain killers. Seriously. I had a huge bruise on my leg from…I don’t know…something I ran into at 3am while trying to quiet a screaming child. I had track marks on my arm from the four botched blood retrieval attempts performed by an inept technician a few days before. And the doctor was skeptical as she repeated, “you hurt your elbow when you accidentally got into a fight with a doorknob? What exactly are you hoping to get out of this visit?”

Then she touched my elbow and went all, “I’m sorry I thought you were making the pain up but now that I’m squeezing the bejesus out of it…maybe you should have x-rays…oh  yup, fractured. Let me put you in a half-cast and send you home with those pain killers”.

Only by the time I got home I had a message in my voice mail saying, “Oops, sorry, just kidding, your elbow isn’t fractured so you can go ahead and take that half-cast off now. Sorry for the confusion. Have a nice life…oh yea, keep the pain killers those are on us. And p.s. can you send us a check for that half-cast?”

Um…

Okay…

So…

Doctors rock. No answers.

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Responses

  1. Seriously???????

    • Seriously.

  2. LOL wow.


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