(continued from previous post)
Dutifully I removed everything and wrapped myself in paper. With some difficulty I tied the short plastic ribbon at the waist—a not-so-gentle reminder to lose weight. The paper came to just above my knees, exposing furry legs.
The doctor came in. She directed me onto the examining table. I apologized for not shaving my legs.
She judged my legs as perfectly acceptable now that summer was over—at least that's what she said. I love my doctor.
After the examination, as she was writing me a prescription for the nummular eczema on my thigh, I absent-mindedly rubbed my left eye before putting my glasses back on.
Instantly my eye began to sting and burn and water and close.
Squinting and tearing, I explained about the tomato sauce and the cherry bomb peppers. The doctor was very interested in my recipe, but enquired, "Didn't you wash your hands?"
"Yes, but..."
(continued)
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