NaPoWriMo #17.5 (A 10/9/2011 Reposted Poem )

I hate going to the doctor

watching agonizingly slow tics of a clock

sitting in endless lines of chairs

surrounded by sick people

coughing

snuffling

hurling

moaning

I waddled through sterile doors

hunched over like a scarecrow

goat in a snow frozen field

getting on the scale

was like adding insult to injury

The nurse looked at my chart

scribbled a figure

raised a disapproving eyebrow

I was finally led on a leash to room number sixteen

the exam bed was wrapped in the usual crispy wax paper

I felt like a limp steak waiting to go into the freezer

I stared at ceiling tiles

reorganized the annoying buzz of lights

into vaguely recognizable patterns

I waited some more

in cubes stacked like Tetris boxes

I cough loudly

I’m still here

I’m still sick

Where are you?

The doctor enters after an hour

I vomit out all the sordid details

The doctor smiles nods and scrawls

As a melodramatic whole

the process is far too exaggerated

for a bitter bottle of pills

only the few can afford

---William James