When Worlds Collide

My newly forming toenail got a hitch in its giddy up where hitch means pain and redness and pus (I mentioned the pus for Deb) and giddy up means why the frick can’t this toenail be normal already? So I was forced, yes, forced, to make an appointment with the hot foot doctor again. I know. And he had to remove another hunk or two of the newly forming toenail. (As a result of my superior bargaining skills, he left some of it behind this time.) I’m hoping the remainder hangs on for dear life, and that the rest grows back with no giddy-up hitches.

But enough about my toenail, you want to know more about the hot doctor. Am I right?

As I walked back to the torture chamber examination room with the hot doctor’s very nice assistant, she and I conversed.

Assistant: “Are you the one who wrote the article about your last visit?”

Me: "Huh?"

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 hop go home.

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.