Today I had my first doctor's appointment in Portland. Nothing's wrong, I just like to have a doctor. It seems so strange because, while technically we had a doctor when I was a kid, he was mainly there to get drugs without a prescription (we were quite poor) & for emergencies. He was very fond of my mother & my sister Pat & seemed a kind soul. His name was George Molhusen & although I can't find any reports online, my sister told me he died in a house fire after rescuing both his wife & his dog. He was 79 years old.
Anyway, I think my first real doctor was a fellow who didn't give a shit about me in Kentucky. I saw him every six months & I don't think he remembered me once. He remains the first man ever to penetrate me anally, albeit with his finger, & I hope he remembers that act as fondly as I do.
We had a great GP in Fort Worth, one of the five best things about my time there. She was very kind, very supportive, & she hugged me goodbye when I said we were moving. I think I actually was healthier when I moved than when I first saw her. She liked horses.
This doctor today was fine & dropped the s-bomb in my presence, which I approve of. But later on - after both a urine sample was given & blood was drawn - I discovered the wife had misunderstood the insurance information & this doctor isn't in our network, or whatever that language is. So I probably won't see her again.
All that blood! All that urine! I hope I'm all right. Will I ever know? Ah well. I have another appointment scheduled for September. Hopefully this one will be in network.
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