I had to spend some time in a doctor's waiting room today. It's something we've all had to do and will continue having to do as time goes by. Sometimes though, if I've forgotten to bring along a newspaper or something else to read, the burden of the wait can become heavy indeed.
There might be a television screen showing a cooking show or maybe showing a program devoted to watching young people trying to find their dream home. Did you ever see the movie "Mr. Blanding Builds His Dream House" c1948? That movie was a comedy but that television show is not. Watching an endless stream of handsome and well-off young couples trying to decide if this kitchen or that bathroom in some particular house is or is not to their liking does not interest me in the slightest.
I often find a coffee table with just a single issue of Good Housekeeping or Redbook, one copy of a Time magazine from sometime last month plus a few dozen copies of WebMD where maybe I can read an article about colon cancer in young adults and/or a few dozen copies of Long Island's MDNews where maybe I can read an article about the delivery of vascular care.
I'm in that waiting room because something is medically wrong with me. I have no problem with the dissemination of useful information about medically important topics, but not while I'm sitting in the waiting room. That is not the time and place where I want to be immersed in other peoples' miseries or quandaries. I selfishly want to be diverted from my own illness by something interesting, distracting and quite frankly, escapist.
There is one doctor whom I have to see for regular follow ups every six months. I found this one particular magazine on a table in his waiting room which I opened to where I knew there would be a crossword puzzle and indeed the puzzle was there. The trouble was that the puzzle was already completely filled in and recognizably, it was filled in by my own hand.
(Sigh.)
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