"May I help you?" said the young receptionist with a serious tone.
"Yes," I said. "I'm Mr. Chance and I have an appointment."
"Please be seated and Doctor Libby will be with you shortly."
I sat down on the family room couch, and watched Libby the receptionist morph into Libby the doctor. I am in a five-year-old's world.
Enter Dr. Libby: "How are you doing Grandpa, ah, I mean Mr. Chance?"
"I haven't been feeling well at all."
"Please lie down over here," pointing at the recliner chair.
I sat down and laid way back. Dr. Libby climbed up on my stomach, and with her magnifying glass, thoroughly checked my ears, nose and throat.
"I see the problem. There's a monkey in your left ear. After I remove it and you will feel better. Now, Mr. Chance, these are pliers and they will help me remove the monkey. They won't hurt you; I don't want you to be afraid."
"Go ahead and get that monkey out of my ear," I said with a grimace.
"There you go; you should feel better now."
"Dr. Libby," I said, "I also am having problems with my feet."
Dr. Libby took off my shoes and socks and checked my feet. Embarassing, as my toenails are really ugly. Frowning, she asked: "Is the problem with your toenails?" .
"Yep."
Dr. Libby put my socks and shoes back on. "I only do feet on Sundays."
End of appointment.
