Progressive Alternative Writing Exercises: What’s Your Diagnosis?

Standard

“let life be what it will be”
-me

Jones sits across from his doctor, both his legs jittering, and palms sweaty. His heart pounds hard and fiercely fast. His eyes are on the brink of exploding floods that would humble the niagra. He is on the verge of total collapse.
He looks the doctor in the eyes and almost shouts, “Seriously doc, how long do we need to wait for these results?”
“Mr Maron, I understand you are anxious, but I assure you that no matter the results, we will be able to assist you.”
“No matter the results?” Jones gasps. For the briefest of moments he is the quietest he has been all day. Then, as if he encountered an epiphany, he jumps to his feet and shouts accusations to the doctor, “You know something don’t you? It’s bad ain’t it? Oh God no!”
The doctor tries to soothe Jones but he is not having it. “No, I will not sit down and I will not stop yelling! I ain’t doing nothing you ask until you give me the results!”
Jones can not believe that the doctor is being an inconsiderate jack-off, while his life was on the line. Jones’ mind races with all the possibles reasons he needed to be at the doctor’s office: sexual diseases, cancer, poison, terrorists. The list is infinite.
“Mr Maron I can have you sedated if you do not calm down.” The doctor’s voice is quiet and relaxed. Damn this bastard, Jones thinks. “You just trying to keep me calm because I’m gonna die huh?” Jones is surprised to hear his own voice littered with fear and pain.
Jones sits down and allows the tears to fall. The doctor says something but Jones does not hear her over his bawling. Legs still jittering he begins staring at the clock. The second hand revolves around the time piece face plate at the speed of smell. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. “Aarrrrrgggggh!”
*
Dr Kulls was startled by her patient’s unjustifiable outburst. His shouting could frighten other patients and she knew that she had to stop them. “Mr Maron I can have you sedated if you do not calm down.”
Her patient was taken back by the claim. He makes an illogical statement about death which doctor Kulls allows to pass into one ear and out the other. She attempted to assure her patient, but doubts he hears her. Why would he think he would dies, doctor Kulls questions herself. This man goes to the extremes. Maybe he does it with his entire life? Strange man indeed. Nothing about his symptoms would denote death.
Then, doctor Kulls allows a terrible thought to pass her mind: what if she had been wrong? Could she have missed something so vital that it could cause the death of this man? A knock at the door brought Dr Kulls out of her thoughts. Fifteen minutes had gone by so quickly.
A nurse, wearing bright orange scrubs, entered carrying the lab results. Doctor Kulls told her patient to remain calm as she went over the data. A small grin spread across her face as an unprofessional moment of gloating filled her heart. “Mr. Maron, I have the results of your lab and blood work cultures.”
At this point, seeing how her patient was doused in his own fear and unknown future, her smile left her face, but not her heart and pride as a medical physician. She was correct with her original diagnosis, “Mr. Maron you have an extremely irritable gastric cycle.” Doctor Kulls could see that the medical verbiage was lost in the patient’s doubt and extreme reaction. “You have really bad gas, Mr. Maron,” doctor Kulls said with a sting of mockery and poking fun.

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