I went to see a new doctor recently, one who was recommended to me by my niece, who also happens to be a medical professional. My wife said that I should tell the doctor who my niece is, I guess with the assumption that I would get more personalized attention.

I love that my wife loves me enough that she wants me to get the best care, but I hope that is not really how medical treatment works.

Like, I’m gonna be leaving the guy’s office and say, “By the way, my niece is a colleague of yours.”

To which he’ll reply, “Why didn’t you say so! Get back in here, you, so I can give you an ACTUAL evaluation! I wasn’t even listening to you just now, and, have, like, NO idea what prescription I just handed you! Ha! …

“Hey Brenda! Please get Mr. Mullins a bath robe, and some of those warm chocolate chip cookies, yeah? Let’s do this right. Now Phil – may I call you Phil? – Phil, tell me ALL about your life, and don’t assume that small details aren’t important. Let’s keep you healthy, buddy. Hey Brenda!… Block off the rest of my day, throw Mr Mullins’s bill in the trash, and, uh, yeah, how about a couple of glasses of cold milk with those cookies! You’re the best, Brenda!. . You’re in good hands, my friend. . . Welcome home…{lowers voice and stares intently into my eyes} Welcome…home.”

Or something like that.

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