Did you ever wake up in the morning and have that feeling as though you've got a lot of things to do for the day, but your energy level just isn't quite there? Last week I had to get some blood drawn for an impending minor surgery I'm having to remove a small skin cancer spot near my left eye. I wasn't real keen on the idea, but what the Hell, I had to go or else suffer the verbal thrashing I would get if I didn't go.
Anyway, my wife took my nasty ass down to our doctor's office and we quickly discovered the left hand in this practice doesn't always talk to the right hand very well. After sitting in the lobby for what seemed to be years, knocking back a cup of their "instant" coffee and watching their boring as Hell nutrition ad, I was finally escorted back to the drawing station to have my blood drawn. The young man leading the way to our destination could easily have been a graduate of the Oral Roberts University and all the way to the drawing station he kept saying how this was "a glorious day for God." Once I sat down and he prepared to draw my blood, he said "Glory be to God" twice while wiping my arm with an alcohol pad. He repeated this same thing twice just prior to sticking me with the needle and twice again when he took the needle out! I was beginning to get a little nervous, if you get my drift. I didn't know if I was going to need to do a Jackie Chan routine on this little guy or not.
OK, two tubes of blood have been drawn and now I've got to provide him with a urine sample in this little bitty plastic cup. Remember, by this time I've already choked down three cups of coffee and my bladder is pounding like a bass drum. I discovered very quickly that the restroom I've been told to use to get my sample was in use and thus, I was doing the Michael Jackson Moon Walk in the hall anxiously waiting for this person to finish their business. After what seemed to be an eternity, this young woman that worked there finally opened the door and made her grand exit. I had no sooner entered the restroom when I was greeted with a stench that would certainly gag a buzzard off a gut wagon. This ungracious young woman didn't have the decency to forewarn me of the room being filled with a toxic smell that can only be described as that of someone having gutted a goat with a road flare. I was in fear of losing the enamel off my teeth, so I breathed only through my nostrils while struggling to fill up this damn little plastic cup! Were it not for the fact that I had nothing to eat since 4pm the previous day, I would have done my best to track down this gangster of stench and asked if during this young woman's potty training years if she had ever been taught to turn the damn fan on while giving birth to a landfill?
After leaving the doctor's office, and assuring all of those within ear shot that I was not responsible for the methane madness at the drawing station, my wife and I went to our neighborhood Mexican restaurant for breakfast where I proceeded to eat enough to feed a family of eight. It's absolutely amazing what a little food and caffeine can do for a person's outlook on life.
