I've not been well of late. Possibly the flu, maybe a reaction to a recent diet attempt, could be that my stomach can no longer tolerate the amount of Advil I take to avert pain.
I've contemplated visiting a doctor, but as acquiescing to the advice of a professional is counter to my nature, I am reluctant. I guess I have an attitue. I believe in self-healing, or in other words, sleep cures all. That was how we approached illness in the Madden family. "Say a Hail Mary and go to bed." My Mother, Mary Margaret Madden, was chronically ill, so there was no money for Doctors for children
When I do have to go to the Doctor, I think, possibly, telepathically I transmit my attitude as the smart-ass that I am. At any rate, I have been asked to seek medical assistance in another direction frequently. Even my Dentist asked me to leave her practice. In her written statement, she indicated that I was uncooperative. I always thought it was because I referred to her hygienist as "Atilla the Hun."
So, I admit, I'm a smart-ass. I recall one doctor in particular who seldom gave me more than five minutes of his time. I noticed he charged my insurance company the top price of that which was covered. So, in one of his efforts to escape, I said: "Get your hand off that doorknob and sit back down. I'm not finished with you yet!"
He didn't show up for the birth of either of my daughters. Then, he referred me to one of his associates for future care. It has become apparent that doctors lack appreciation for my charm.
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