a trip to the doctor

Jacob here.

Emily is real busy, so this post is what we call, “filler.”

The other day I was at the church playing basketball and twisted my foot a crazy way and heard a “pop.” Some dude sitting on the stage said, “Broke as a joke.”

I hate breaking things, let alone bones. So after about of week of stubbornness and no sign of improvement from my “joke” foot I went to see a doctor.

I found out that foot doctors (podiatrists as their called in the biz) are really rare in Utah. I was lucky even to get in to see Dr. Ruben Gomez Jr.

Don’t the name fool you, Dr. Ruben Gomez Jr. is white, pure white. In fact he looks kind of like a fat, short, balding Bruce Willis (his ex-wife on the other hand…).

So I drove to the Doctor’s office and when I got there I found out that the podiatrist office was on the 3rd floor of the building. Good idea Gomez. I searched for an elevator, seeing how I’ve been walking around like Javier Bardem at the end of No Country for Old Men for the past week. (spoiler warning!)

I found no elevator, so I hobbled up the stairs to the office and when I got there I found a room full of people with other crazy foot problems; an old lady in a wheel chair with an elevated footrest, girl with crutches, old man with a walker and some shoes that had springs on them, go go gadget style.

How did they get up here? I was struggling up Mt. Everest and I knew I could walk better than they could. I was about to ask when some girl gruffly hands me clipboard demanding my info.

We shall call this girl Janelle, to protect her privacy.

I notice that Janelle is wearing this cute little pink headband and large hoop earrings. She is trying to offset the naturally unappealing look of the monochromatic office scrubs.

I find a seat and start checking boxes. Janelle is at her computer. She looks at the screen then picks up her phone and places an important call.

Janelle: Hey do you have that one perfume in the blue bottle? Yea. That's the one. Really? Why? Okay. Whatever.

Janelle slams the phone and softly screams.

Janelle: This day has gone from a bad, to a super bad day.

The other receptionist, who I can’t see from where I’m sitting, tries to console her.

Other Receptionist: Oh sweetie. What's wrong?

Janelle: I just found out that they stopped making my favorite perfume. It’s my signature scent. It's like me in a bottle.

Other Receptionist: Bummer.

Janelle: I know. It's like the one thing I like from that store. All of my roommates try to borrow it. I hide it so they can't use it.

Other Receptionist: Really?

Janelle: Yea. I'm telling you guys can smell that scent and know I’m at a party, or I just left the party.

Other Receptionist: I would be so mad. What store was it?

Janelle: Like I'm going to telling you.

Other Receptionist: I can't buy the perfume any way, they stopped making it.

Janelle: You would buy it on eBay or something. You copy everything.

Other Receptionist: No I don't.

Janelle: Jacob?

As I walk over to the door to the back rooms I notice the other receptionist as I pass by. She is wearing a cute little pink headband and large hoop earrings. Even down to her hair she looks like Janelle. I wave as I limp by.

Then I tell four different people what happened to my foot. Then doctor comes in and asks what happened to my foot, again. I tell it to him for the fifth time. I think they do this so I can practice boiling my story down to the most important parts so I don’t waste Dr. Not So Die Hard’s time.

He takes an X-ray and the doc tells me my foot is not broken.

I think to myself: This day has gone from a good, to a super good day.