My Kind of Medicine

When we first moved to San Diego we found a nice general practitioner that Mindy and I could see on those rare occasions when we were sick.

He was easy to get into since he was older and had decided to stop taking new patients shortly after we found him. He and his wife, who worked the front desk, talked often of retiring.

But every time we call he is still there.

After Mindy's first visit she came home convinced that he was a former Hippie.

I never got that same vibe. With me he talked about his wife, grandkids and practicing medicine for 30 years. Not quite the Dead Head type of lifestyle. He looked like a classic grandfather.

Still she insisted there was more to this man than met the eye. She joked that she could get him to prescribe medical marijuana if she just asked.

Well....

Mindy was sick this week so off she went to see the doc.

At the front desk she noticed his wife wasn't there. So when she saw the doctor she commented that it looked like his wife had decided to retire.

He politely explained that his wife had passed away last year.

When Mindy pulled her foot back out of her mouth, she offered her condolences. He thanked her and told her of his struggles after she had died. He missed being able to talk with her.

But he quickly perked up and said now all is OK because he realized that he could still communicate with her. He went on to say that he communed with her several times a day.

As he expounded on karma and transcendentalism Mindy decided to see if he wouldn't mind sharing some some drugs to help a girl out.

She couldn't muster the nerve to ask for marijuana (to test her theory), but she asked for the next best thing: Vicodin.

Sure he said. Everyone needs a good supply of Vicodin.

So Mindy came home with antibiotics for her sore throat, and a little something extra.

Makes you wonder how he is communing with his wife each day?

Also reminds me I need to make an appointment!!