Under The Hood

I am never quite at ease with a trip to the mechanic or the doctor's office. It likely stems from my dislike of needles and the possibility of getting ripped off. said I always dread the idea of having my prostrate checked. The problem there stems from the idea that if you move said exam from a doctor's office into a hotel room it goes from being a medical procedure to being a felony. There are many razor thin lines we all walk in this life my friends. Both, my body and my F-150 are in fairly decent shape. However, it should be pointed out in seriousness and in jest that once either of them is put up on the rack they may find a problem; after all, that's their job. And let's be honest, if the medical establishment cannot talk you into unnecessary surgery, they cannot continue to rape your wallet.

I noted not so long ago in the parking lot at work that the guy's truck parked next to me had the follow problems: duct tape on his side mirror, a pair of vice-grips on his defroster, and I saw a prescription for gout laying on his front seat. I can say without hesitation that both my vehicle and my body are in far better shape than that. My problem at the doctor's office is not so much with Mr. Sawbones, it is more the fear of the unknown. Not so long ago I wrote a blog entry titled "THE FLU" and I stated thusly that I would rather have the flu than to get the shot. That might sound unhinged to an everyday individual, but keep in mind it is nearly impossible to a apply logic to an illogical fear. I have been trying to do that my whole life with little success.

A television commercial for either your intestinal health or your car's transmission are scarily similar. They both paint a gloomy picture in that either, or both (depending on your point of view) are both on borrowed time and that being able to take a decent crap in this country seems to be high on everyone's wish list. Who knows, maybe Santa Clause is the one keeping the people at Metamucil in business. It's highly possible that there could be too much sludge in the crankcase of either our tranny or our intestines. From a simplistic Okie point of view, I suggest a couple of cups of some strong coffee. Roasted beans seem to be magical, and they are natural and not to mention legal. But in the case that my mechanic is snowed under, at least I have the luxury of leaving my F-150 overnight like granny did with her dentures. My colon; not so much.

Doctor's office waiting rooms are nerve racking. They usually make me full of fear and loathing; it may be the smell of the rubbing alcohol that does that. I often wonder how many people who are setting within my vicinity that are coughing like they are about to lose a lung are contagious. I am rarely phobic about anything but being in this close proximity gives me pause. I have often stared at people from under cover of my Better Homes and Gardens magazine wonder what kind of ailments they might have. The magazines found in any doctor's office are usually confusing. They usually consist of five chick magazines and one Golf Digest. I couldn't care less about either learning a new cross-stitch pattern OR shaving five strokes off my game. And, on the cover of at least one of those women's magazines is a caption that reads "five erogenous zones for men AND101 secret ways to turn on your man." Women, trust me when I tell you that we men have only ONE erogenous zone and it's no secret where it is located. Once we do finally make it into the inner sanctum of the doctor's secret layer the first order of business is for them to give you a hard time about your blood pressure. Maybe if we were not waiting for an hour in the FIRST waiting room, we would have a regular pressure! Hey doc, if you would like to see me with a regular blood pressure you might be so kind as to hide that needle that is the size of a number two pencil??