Playing to the Gallery

(1)

I've switched to Miller High Life in honor of one of their new commercials, which features the same music which appeared near the end of the movie, True Romance. I love the music but still do not have a copy of it except on my old tape of TR, nor do I know the name of the music or the name of the instrument on which it was played. I also loved the commercial, which might be one of the very few 'intellectual' beer commercials in an overwhelmingly macho genre.

A white-knuckle (for me) visit to Kaiser (tap) Permante this week for a 'skin lesion' was quite interesting (boom). The problem is a growth on my left temple which is probably a 'keratosis.' I gathered enough courage to finally address the little problem, and used the opportunity to assess the (several faint taps from above as I wrote that sentence fragment) official Kaiser attitude toward me in the wake of my last visit (faint boom). You may recall that It concerned 'severe airway inflamation' which Doctor Deborah (PJ) Presken felt unqualified to detect. I had revealed during that visit that I was recording the conversation. Naturally I wondered whether a notation to my medical information had been made to the effect that 'this patient records (tap) conversations with Kaiser personnel.' I was also naturally interested in (tap) any changes in attitude I might be able to detect.

The nurse ritual went as I expected except that the oxygenation test was ommitted, and the nurse was very cool. The doctor was also very cool. I would characterize them both as 'cool as a witch's tit in November.' The doctor, another female, was not only cool but competent. What she she may have lacked in 'bedside manner' was more than made up for in cooperation.

My blood pressure of 160/90 seemed to concern her (faint boom) and near the end of the visit she took her own reading (the nurse takes the initial reading) which yielded 140/80. I suggested 'white coat syndrome' as the culprit because my readings yield a consistent 120/70, pulse 60. And these are slightly high values.

The one thing which struck me about the good doctor was that she talked much louder (tap) than was necessary given the intimate nature of our situation. She also talked to me as if I were sporting an IQ of around 300 Kelvin. It was faintly irritating and I concluded that the good doctor thought she was being recorded and was therefore 'playing to the gallery.'