Backhanded Complement of the Week

The scene: Our heroine in her domain, the small but fairly well-stocked exam room, having successfully navigated the waters of the twice unsatisfied patient from another clinic, leaving him both he and his girlfriend enlightened as to what influenza entails and why antibiotics aren't in his best interest, yet providing them with full written and verbal instructions of what the hell we CAN do for his misery and woe (namely good drugs for his cough and instructions to call back if not better in 3 days, plus what the hell to take over the counter):

Diana: "So. Any other questions? Anything I've missed or not explained?"

Patient: (ill but not, as feared, dying) "No. That makes sense. Why are you so much better than the Real Doctors?"

Diana: (sigh) "But I am a real doctor." She looks hang dogged and shows the redundant name tag with her name, followed with the moniker 'MD', AND the embroidery above the breast pocket of her (formerly) white, long lab coat that also proclaims the fruit of many years of lost sleep, lost fun, lost friends, lost youth and unfathomable student loan debt, stating that, indeed, she is 'Diana Piffle, MD'.

Patient: "You know what I mean."

Do I ever.

And for my next feat, I will impersonate an x-ray tech, which should be much harder as it will actually require me to do something, namely produce a recognizable image of a person's inside stuff.

Thang-Q.

thangqverymuch.

(PS: This really was not meant for sympathy. I just thought it was terribly funny.)