Doctor Doctor

You think you had a bad day today? You’ve got nothing on me.

It started out great. Not much traffic on the way in to work. My boss took the day off leading into the long weekend. I took a long lunch, got caught up on some projects, and snuck out of work a bit early.

So far, so good.

Great drive home as most of the traffic was headed the other way, out of town for the weekend. Weather is fabulous, some great music on the radio. I’m thinking of what we’re going to do over the long weekend. I’m feeling fantastic.

The instant I walk in the house it starts to go wrong. I suddenly feel nauseous. I get dizzy, almost fall down. Intense paid shoots up both legs. My chest feels like it’s going to explode.

I fall to my knees, crawl forward. What’s happening? A heart attack? Now my head starts to pound, my ears are ringing like an overloaded call center. I lurch into the living room, fall flat on my face. I struggle to roll over, sure I’m going to die. I can’t do it. Not wanting the last thing I see to be our (somewhat dirty, I notice) carpet, I gather every last bit of strength I can muster, close my eyes, grit my teeth and am somehow able to roll over onto my back.

I can feel consciousness slipping away. I open my eyes; everything is blurry. I see shapes moving, I hear voices. Two figures in white coats are looking down on me, conversing. I stain to hear what they are saying. Are they angels? Is this really the end?

They lean closer, staring at me. I could swear their brows are furrowed.

White coats…could they be…doctors? In my house?

I squint, straining to see. They seem young, too young to be doctors. And now I’m staring to pick up bits of conversation.

“He needs a shot.”

“We have to cut off his legs.”

“Let’s try some medicine.”

The next thing I know I’m being given about 50 shots, all over my body. Most of them are directed into my belly button, but some go to my neck, my ears, and a couple in my nose. Someone is sawing at my leg with a plastic saw, and I’m being force-fed a handful of colorful pills that taste suspiciously like M&Ms.

Despite the unorthodox treatment, I’m starting to feel better. I’m able to sit up. Now someone is taking my blood pressure – around my neck. Not the best way to do it, perhaps, but hey, I’m feeling even better. I might actually pull through!

The crisis is eventually averted. Dad will make it, and none the worse for where. Thanks to the spectacular treatment provided by Doctor Chris and Doctor Tommy, Dad will live to provide tickles at bedtime.

Doogie Howser has nothing on these two child prodigies, I can tell you that!

It’s great to be The Family Man.