|The gift that keeps on giving|
"Umm nothing is wrong. I'm just here." As directed, I'm stretched out on the floor. I am an unenthusiastic patient. My daughter frowns and looms, as much as an almost-three-year-old can.
"But," she persists, "What is wrong?" A pause. "I will be your doctor today."
I cave. "I...have a cough."
"Okayyyy. Has a dog crawled inside you?"
"Okay. Have any animals crawled into your head?"
"Okayyyyyyy. Well. I'm almost certain bees have flown in your ears~~"
"Oh my god, really!~~"
"So I will give you ear drops" puff! puff! from a tiny bottle "and give you bandages" and with that she stuck address labels from her grandparents' home across both my ears. She tucks the labels around the edges of my ear lobes.
"I don't know about this~~" It's very disorienting to have stickers over one's ears. I push myself up from the living room rug. I
"~~And you will need a shot."
"Can you please not give it on a bone? They are meant to be given into fat (or muscle?)"
She ignores me and jabs into the tops of my feet. "There you go."
The doctor has impressive availability, and is open to alternative paths to health. Inconsistent bedside manner. Information about medical schooling currently unavailable. She is always accepting new patients.