From My Life

2.

My doctor and I have been playing a little game of telephone tag today. He's been trying to let me know that I'm going to be dying sooner than previously planned, this even after selling me an extended warranty only last year. I've managed to be out when he calls--you know, moving the car to get out of the way of street-cleaners and, of course, to avoid being ticketed and/or towed. When I get back to the apartment, there's another message from him on the machine, but it only says to call him, and that there's something "troubling" in my recent bloodwork. I put off calling him for a few days, and then, as always when I do call, he's either with a patient or not in the office or both. I leave my number with the re (de?) ceptionist and then leave the phone off the hook just in case he calls back before I have a chance to go out.