You should have seen us gathered around him; it looked exactly like a print: “At Grandmother’s Knee.”
He regaled his grateful audience with talk of -- what else? -- food. Mrs. P., a friend of Miep’s, has been cooking his meals.
The day before yesterday Jan ate carrots with green peas, yesterday he had the leftovers,
today she’s cooking marrowfat peas, and tomorrow she’s planning to mash the remaining carrots with potatoes.
We asked about Miep’s doctor. “Doctor?” said Jan. “What doctor? I called him this morning and got his secretary on the line.
I asked for a flu prescription and was told I could come pick it up tomorrow morning between eight and nine.
If you’ve got a particularly bad case of flu, the doctor himself comes to the phone and says, ‘Stick out your tongue and say “Aah.”
Oh, I can hear it, your throat’s infected. I’ll write out a prescription and you can bring it to the pharmacy.’
Good day.’ And that’s that. Easy job he’s got, diagnosis by phone. But I shouldn’t blame the doctors.
After all, a person has only two hands, and these days there’re too many patients and too few doctors.”
Still, we all had a good laugh at Jan's phone call. I can just imagine what a doctor's waiting room looks like these days.
Doctors no longer turn up their noses at the poorer patients, but at those with minor illnesses.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색