I had an appointment with a podiatrist this morning. Nothing major. Didn't think I needed to bring my camera. Who would want to see the embarrassing, little issue I have with my feet?
Well, I'm dying at the idea that I cannot just SHOW you the office. I'm about to make a new appointment and pay another $25 copay just so I can take a photo! Wood paneling with a lovely blue wash. Saloon chairs in the waiting room. A monstrosity of a Christmas cactus sitting on a table. A raspy-voiced receptionist. And, of course, a dream catcher on the wall. 70's culture right down to the smell of cigarette smoke. I felt I had stepped into a chain-smoking, old lady's parlor.
I feel mean. The doctor was very nice. He didn't seem to need to kick a habit at all.
3 comments:
At least you know he isn't spending your hard earned co-pays on redecorating!
So he smoked IN his office? Weird. Come and get your feet fixed and leave with lung cancer. That's like the commercial they are playing in Utah where the Dr is examaning the little boy while smoking.
So what was the prognosis on your feet?
Oh man! I thought my OB's office was bad.
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