
I got out of bed angry today, just thinking about that doctor yesterday who blew us off and went his merry way.
“Why, sure I’ll do your hip replacement! As soon as a bunch of other doctors can boost you into perfect health, otherwise, and be ready to take the rap if you should happen to die. You’re 76, you know–gotta keep an eye out for the Reaper!”
By taking on only easy, “can’t miss” cases, Doc Shyster can puff up his record of success–all he has to do is blow off anyone who comes to him with even the slightest medical hang-up. Sort of like the way they used to promote not-very-talented boxers by matching them up against hopeless palookas. (See The Harder They Fall).
So as of today I have no doctor willing to fix my hip. And no, I’m not going to go to upper New York state or lower Honduras to get one.