Bell Tower

Bell Tower

Today, I woke up a hunchback. My hunch had been coming on slowly. Over the last few weeks, I began to notice a distinctive hunch developing on my right spinal area. At first, I just though…whoa….zit. But as it progressed well past zit and into something requiring its own area code, I realized that my denial was not a cure. It became so big that I actually had to…go to the doctor. Gasp. I am the worst Canadian in the country. We have a wonderful health care system and I never use it. It is sort of like my gym membership. I know it is there, and I intend on using it, but really, I prefer just to brag about it to my American friends at parties rather than actually go. You see if I go, the doctor may find something wrong with me. If I don’t go, then I can spend countless hours obsessing about the millions of strange things it could be while researching on the internet.

While researching my hunchback-ed-ness on Wikipedia, I came up with all sorts of possibilities. List of possible reasons for hunch:

• Unborn twin
• Space alien pod
• The C word – and, yes, I mean cyst
• New fat storage area for hot fudge sundae consumption since area in buttocks is completely full

The first two possibilities sounded scary, so I made an appointment immediately. My family doctor was shocked to see me. She made notice several times that the last time I saw her Y2K had not happened. She screamed when she saw my hunch and sent me immediately to a surgeon across the hall. Her reaction startled me. I began to think that maybe my hunch was serious. What if I can’t get rid of it and it continues to grow? What if I can no longer wear form fitting shirts? What if it begins to look like I have boobs on both sides? What if the only job I can get is in a…bell tower. I ran across the hall.

The surgeon’s name was Dr. Jenetles. I know. That is what I thought when I first saw it. It is pronounced differently though. I obediently took a seat and filled out the required medical questionnaire. Tick the following:

Do you (or anyone in your family) have:

• Heart disease
• Diabetes
• Lung Issues
• Hepatitis
• Syphilis
• Allergies
• Cancer
• Nearsightedness
• Ringworm

I ticked “yes” for each just to be safe. I had no idea what half of them meant but I made special note to research each thoroughly when I got home.

I handed in my form. After reading my paper, I noticed the receptionist whispering to the other staff. They put on masks and rubber gloves, spoke to me in soothing tones and kept a distance of 8 feet. Sigh.

I sat glumly in the waiting area. What is it with doctor’s offices? Do they all have the same decorator? All Canadian doctor waiting rooms must contain the following items:

• A pile of Readers’ Digest and Canadian Living (honestly, if doctors didn’t subscribe to these magazines, Darwin would have taken them out long ago)
• A box of children’s plastic toys including a wooden abacas. All are laden with enough germs to start their own plague
• Not enough chairs. Well, technically there are enough chairs for patients but given we are all scared to sit next to each other because we don’t know how germy the other one is, there are not enough chairs. There needs to be a good person – chair - person ratio.
• Ceiling tiles with holes in it for counting
• Patients who are pretending to read the Life’s Like That section of Readers Digest but you can tell that they aren’t because they haven’t turned a page for over 40 minutes.
• A guy on a cell phone who politely goes outside the office (when told to by the receptionist) and then proceeds to yell outside the door to his wife about how stupid their contractor is.
• A poster on the wall that says There Is No Excuse for Abuse. You wish you could email a copy of the poster to the wife of the guy on the cell phone.

When it was my turn to see Dr. Jenetles, I was happy to get out of the waiting room. He was a lovely older man from Europe who gave me a stern lecture for not visiting a doctor prior to Y2K. I suspect my family doctor had called to get him to reinforce the point. After examining the lump, he declared it was an infected cyst and with a snip, snip my hunch was gone. It is sore but will be better.

Today, I woke up a hunchback. Tonight, I can walk amongst humans again. Happy Days! Bong. Bong. Bong.