Once again, I'm awake at three in the morning, have been to the bathroom to make sure it's still there, and had my first cup of coffee, with real cream, thanks to Avalon Dairy, our 109-year-old dairy with milk in real glass bottles, with no picture of the factory on the package - and now I'm wondering what to do with the rest of the morning, until it's time for my semi-annual appointment with that hotshot young internal medicine specialist who put me on Xarelto a few months back.
That goddamned Xarelto almost killed me. It gave me big lumpy blood blisters inside my cheeks and lips, it gave me swollen ankles that were not related to any kind of "wearing out of the check-valves in your circulatory system" like this wise-ass tried to convince me, and there was occult blood showing in both urine and feces samples taken after several months on it.
Personally, I'd like to get together with the guy who invented that shit, and then introduce him to one of my favorite clear-cuts out in the boonies near here. I'd like to leave him there, with his gonads nailed to a convenient stump, for Grizzly bait. The son of a bitch is too stupid to live anyway. And that's my considered opinion.
Maybe I can't teach these kids anything about medicine, especially these recent know-it-alls whose diplomas still have wet ink on them, but I could perhaps teach them something about psychology. I've hung out with a few of the country's best 'shrinks', and a psychiatrist is a guy who uses you for a guinea pig while you both work together solving his problems - which is you! I was asking mine questions for about twenty minutes one day, until he suddenly got wise to what was going on, and asked "Just who is analyzing who here?" And I smiled and replied, "Gee, Doc - I thought that was obvious. You'll be OK, but I do have a few more questions - like what's your relationship with that gorgeous blonde you take on vacations to Tahiti for a month of sailing around the islands each year? Are you planning to make her an honest woman? And what does your wife think about all that?" He looked at me a little nervously and said, "I think we've covered just about everything for this visit - I'll see you in six months." And I said, "Only if you're lucky, and don't get caught."
He was a really handsome guy, and he will never know how often I wanted to
try out his big black leather couch making love to the rascal. It never came up, unfortunately...but I wished.
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