The nurse at Dr. Johnson's office (name changed to protect . . . yada yada yada) was making my next appointment as I checked out when she looked up at me. "You know, you look just like your mama." "Thank you. But, I just don't see it." "Oh, I do. And, we love having her in here. She is so sweet." "Oh, she's a piece of work," I replied, "Sometimes, like the Energizer Bunny."
"You know it took me a while to get her to come see Dr. Johnson. I begged and pleaded and finally she agreed. I was so relieved because I knew he would take good care of her. "Well, we always enjoy her visits." That begs me to wonder - what tales does she tell to entertain them? But I digress.
I remember that argument well.
She had been seeing Dr. Smith (name changed . . .) for years and saw no reason to see anyone else. I failed to agree.
"Mama, you really need to start seeing Dr. Johnson." "But, I'm fine. Dr. Smith takes good care of me. He has for years." "I know, for something like 50 years. He must be in his 80's." "He is 81." "How are you seeing him any way, he closed his office years ago?" "Oh, I see him in Sunday School. If I ever need him, he always there." "What happens if you need him any other day of the week?" "I can always call him." "Let me guess, he makes house calls." "No, don't be silly."
I feared I would have to wait for the death of Dr. Smith, but then, who knew, he may diagnose and treat from the grave. However, after weeks of begging and pleading, she finally gave in. Of course, she had no records to transfer, unless you count random notes on her Sunday school book.