But enough about my toenail, you want to know more about the hot doctor. Am I right?
As I walked back to the
Assistant: “Are you the one who wrote the article about your last visit?”
Assistant: "About when the doctor removed your toenail?"
And then it dawned on me what she was talking about.
Me [sheepishly]: “Oh. Um. Well. Uh. Yes, I did write something about that.”
Assistant: “It was really funny.”
Me: “Oh. Uh. Really? Oh. How did you, uh, find it?”
Assistant: “I don’t know. Someone printed it out. We all passed it around. Everyone thought it was funny.”
Me: “Oh. My. Well. Um. Okay. Uh. Thank you.”
So now I’m thinking, everyone? As in, did the hot doctor get a hold of it too? Frick.
Enter hot doctor. Crap. Way hotter than I first remembered. Way. And why is he smiling like that? Is he smiling like that? Or is it just me? Because hotter. Way.
I will spare you the medical details. Suffice it to say that the discussion (pedicures, Dexter, amputation), procedure (sharp metal instruments, syringes, iPhone), and gore (blood, pus hi Deb!, carnage) were pretty much the same as the last time, except that this time my legs were shaved. (I may or may not have also shaved those little hairs on my toes too. I'm not saying.)
All the while I was wondering whether the hot doctor had read that earlier post, you know, that someone had printed and passed around the office.
Then I was all bandaged up and ready to
Hot Doctor: “Do you have any questions?”
Me: “No, no, I don’t think so.”
Hot Doctor: “Well, if you do, be sure to call me. I don’t know how to find your blog.”
And he was smiling that way.