This photo is of Nazi WWII nutcase (Dr.) Josef Mengele. He was reported to have died somewhere in South America in 1979. Not true. I found him alive and well giving DOT physicals on the West coast of Florida. To prepare for this unexpected "encounter" I had taken an extra blood pressure pill, ran exactly l mile on the treadmill and took 3 Zanex to calm down. I mentioned in an earlier posting I suffer from "white coat fever." Well, after filling out paperwork and waiting for about 30 minutes, I go inside and change into a hospital gown with little coverage in the back. I wait about another 20 minutes. And lo and behold, Dr. Mengele walks in and for whatever reason takes one look at me and clearly decides he doesn't like me. He has no bedside manner whatever. Assisted by a nurse, he puts the "large" blood pressure (BP) cuff on my left arm. And it gets tighter, and tighter and tighter - this is starting to hurt. And he scowls and winces. Finally hissssss and he lets the pressure out. I wait. The nurse looks at him and he looks at me. "So yu drive a truck?" "Yes" "Un yu eat salty fatty fast fuds?" "Not really", I meekly respond. He raises his voice. Everything he has on is brown or tan - brown pants, tan shirt, brown tie, brown socks, tan shoes. "Yu are morbidly obese - I know people who have had a stroke with blood pressure less than yours." "Yu should not be driving a golf cart and I will not allow yu to drive a truck. You need to be in a hospital." He continues: "I know yu truckers, the doctor gives yu pills und yu take and yu put them in a drawer." His voice goes up again: "Isn't that right!" I don't know what to say at this point. "Who is your doctor? Man or woman? When did you see her last? The medication SHE gave yu and YU don't take is NOT good enough! Yu MUST take at least THREE different pills. What is your cholesterol? Just then I realize the examining room door is open and everyone out in the hall is listening to this interrogation as I sit there with the gown on high enough so everyone can look right up my crotch. I am in DOT physical hell. And it's just where I've been many times before and the reason for my "white coat fever". I needed to get out of there. Mrs. Grumpy is waiting for me expecting a signed DOT med card in my hand. What's making me even more upset is knowing how she is going to react to not getting one. I am surrounded my people who want what I just cannot give them. When this fiasco is over I walk out with my wife assuming Dr. Mengele's role as chief interrogator. Holy shit. Trouble in paradise! The photo credit is: http://www.all-science-fair-projects.com/science_fair_projects_encyclopedia/Joseph_Mengele
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Trouble in Paradise...
This photo is of Nazi WWII nutcase (Dr.) Josef Mengele. He was reported to have died somewhere in South America in 1979. Not true. I found him alive and well giving DOT physicals on the West coast of Florida. To prepare for this unexpected "encounter" I had taken an extra blood pressure pill, ran exactly l mile on the treadmill and took 3 Zanex to calm down. I mentioned in an earlier posting I suffer from "white coat fever." Well, after filling out paperwork and waiting for about 30 minutes, I go inside and change into a hospital gown with little coverage in the back. I wait about another 20 minutes. And lo and behold, Dr. Mengele walks in and for whatever reason takes one look at me and clearly decides he doesn't like me. He has no bedside manner whatever. Assisted by a nurse, he puts the "large" blood pressure (BP) cuff on my left arm. And it gets tighter, and tighter and tighter - this is starting to hurt. And he scowls and winces. Finally hissssss and he lets the pressure out. I wait. The nurse looks at him and he looks at me. "So yu drive a truck?" "Yes" "Un yu eat salty fatty fast fuds?" "Not really", I meekly respond. He raises his voice. Everything he has on is brown or tan - brown pants, tan shirt, brown tie, brown socks, tan shoes. "Yu are morbidly obese - I know people who have had a stroke with blood pressure less than yours." "Yu should not be driving a golf cart and I will not allow yu to drive a truck. You need to be in a hospital." He continues: "I know yu truckers, the doctor gives yu pills und yu take and yu put them in a drawer." His voice goes up again: "Isn't that right!" I don't know what to say at this point. "Who is your doctor? Man or woman? When did you see her last? The medication SHE gave yu and YU don't take is NOT good enough! Yu MUST take at least THREE different pills. What is your cholesterol? Just then I realize the examining room door is open and everyone out in the hall is listening to this interrogation as I sit there with the gown on high enough so everyone can look right up my crotch. I am in DOT physical hell. And it's just where I've been many times before and the reason for my "white coat fever". I needed to get out of there. Mrs. Grumpy is waiting for me expecting a signed DOT med card in my hand. What's making me even more upset is knowing how she is going to react to not getting one. I am surrounded my people who want what I just cannot give them. When this fiasco is over I walk out with my wife assuming Dr. Mengele's role as chief interrogator. Holy shit. Trouble in paradise! The photo credit is: http://www.all-science-fair-projects.com/science_fair_projects_encyclopedia/Joseph_Mengele
