Hypochondriac’s dream

Nestled in a two-block area in the Hollywood foothills sit seven multi-story medical buildings.  Like an HMO mall — a plethora of services for what ails ya.  I wandered these edifices while I wanted for Couponman’s defibrillator installation this morning, and decided to rid myself of this forever cough.  Actually, I had three items on my list – enough to warrant a doctor visit.

I walked into a same-day appointment, “Let’s see,” the young doctor said, gazing at my records, “you’re due for a …” 

“I know,” I answered.  I’d been getting stalker phone messages from the scheduling nurse that I’d ignored.  Slamming body parts in a freezer contraption during the winter months had definitely been out of the question.    ”Does Kaiser take walk-in mammogram patients?”

“I think,” the doctor said, “they might be able to squeeze you in.”

“Squeeze me in,” I laughed.  “That’s funny.”   

After having my blood pressure taken, my tongue depressed, my lungs x-rayed, my chest flattened at the one-stop-serves-all mall, I returned to the waiting room.  Couponman would have been proud — twenty procedures for the price of one co-pay.  I read three magazines — one cover to cover before realizing it was an alternative lifestyle magazine.  I had wondered why there were so many ballroom dance articles in it. 

Finally they took me in to see Couponman.  He looked good.  He’s now wired for another 500,000 miles.