By Carl Sampson
I think I’m going to hire a doctor.
Well, not really hire one, but get one to occasionally take a look at me. I’m feeling good but I just want to get a 100,000-mile check-up.
First, a disclaimer. I’m not a fan of the medical profession. Every doctor I’ve ever seen — except for a few at the Mayo Clinic — treated me as though I was keeping them from something more important, like a tee time.
I’ve always marveled at the fact that the folks who take care of my car know more about me — and seem to care more about me — than the doctors I’ve seen.
Also, with one major exception, when I lived in Minnesota my gall bladder crashed and burned. I’ve been pretty lucky in the medical department. No major illnesses or accidents. This I attribute to staying away from (most) alcohol, not smoking and exercising.
But I figure I’ll need a good doctor sooner or later. Those of us on the cool side of 60 know we aren’t immortal.
Plus, now that Obamacare has fixed everything that was wrong with the medical profession, or so I’ve been told, it’s time to find out just what that means.
But first a proviso for all future applicants. Although my health is pretty good, my health insurance isn’t what it used to be. I have a high deductible — or else I couldn’t afford it at all. That means I won’t be interested in getting every test you can cook up.
So here’s my request for proposals from local doctors. You can sing along, if you want, to the tune of The Perfect Nanny from the film Mary Poppins.
Wanted: A doctor for an adorable 62-year-old man.
If you want this choice position,
Have a cheery disposition.
Rosy cheeks, no warts!
Cure illness, all sorts.
You must be kind, you must be witty
Very nice and never snotty
Get to know all about me
Even things you don’t want to see.
Never make me wait, or be late
Never give me Castor oil or gruel
Care for me as a father
And never smell of barley water
If you won’t scold or lecture me
I will never give you cause to hate me
I won’t hide your stethoscope
So you can’t hear
Put notes in your bills
Or scratch your Mercedes
Hurry doctor!
Many thanks.
Sincerely,
Carl Sampson
If that doesn’t get me the perfect doctor, I don’t know what will.
