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Humor April 2012

Ernie's World

The Power of Suggestion

By Ernie Witham

Today's clinic experience actually started in the crowded elevator. Because I can't stand the deafening silence of anonymity, I asked the guy next to me: "So what are you in for?"

There's a funny line in the movie City Slickers when Daniel Stern, during a tirade of complaints to Billy Crystal and Bruno Kirby about life on the open trail herding cattle, ends with something like: "...and I've got this rash!"

This thought came to me as I was sitting in the waiting area in the dermatology department at the clinic. There were a number of other people sitting there looking uncomfortable, and I'm sure, like me, wanting to throw down their magazines, whip off some clothing and scratch like an old coon dog. But of course that's a no-no. With the power of suggestion one scratch could lead to a free-for-all and in no time we could end up with a small mountain of flaked off skin parts. Then maintenance would have to be called and it would be so loud with that industrial vacuum cleaner going that we might not hear our names called and be here for hours.

Speaking of suggestion, I've heard that during the hippie years when LSD was popular there were certain things you did not do to someone who was tripping. For instance, you didn't say: "Wow, what's that awful smell?" Or: "Did you see the size of that rat that just scurried under your chair?" Or: "Wow, man, what's wrong with your face?" Other things you didn't do included yawning excessively, constantly clearing your throat and, of course, scratching relentlessly. Because once you started any of these things, the power of suggestion took over and no one could stop. To this day some old Hippies still have flashbacks -- excuse me (yaaawwwnnnn, a-a-a-hem, yaaawwwnnnn, a-a-a-hem, yaaawwwnnnn, a-a-a-hem).

Today's clinic experience actually started in the crowded elevator. Because I can't stand the deafening silence of anonymity, I asked the guy next to me: "So what are you in for?"

"Colonoscopy," he whispered.

"First time?"

"Yes."

Others in the elevator nodded knowingly.

"It's not bad if you don't twitch."

"Yes," a women said, "best not to move suddenly when that probe is ... probing."

The guy twitched a bit and a look of panic crept across his face.

"Um bummer, man," another guy said under his breath.

He twitched again. And again. And again.

I quickly changed the subject to ease his mind. "The good thing is between not eating for 24 hours and that stuff they make you drink the night before you usually lose a few pounds."

"I thought you drank the stuff in the morning?" the guy squeaked out.

"What?"

"Oh my."

"That's cutting it close."

This caused an animated discussion about the myriad of problems associated with not being completely ready for the procedure. When the elevator stopped, the guy rushed out and ran twitchingly toward the restroom.

"Good luck," we yelled after him.

"Hope he gets a doctor with a sense of humor."

"No kidding."

A lab technician got on the elevator. I asked her: "So, see anything unusual today?"

"Well," she said. The others leaned in closer. "We removed a wart from a kid's hand that looked a little like Harry Potter."

"Do you still have it?"

"I wish, but no, the kid wanted to keep it for show and tell."

"Did you at least get a picture of it?"

She pulled out here cell phone. "Wow," we all said.

"The strange thing is that it just popped up overnight and it's the fourth one we've seen this month. There seems to be a bit of a wart epidemic going around." Instantly, we all began checking our digits. I thought sure I felt a small bump on my left thumb.

The elevator stopped again and she got off. "Anyone for dermatology?" A guy held the door.

"Ah, me," I said.

"Remember," they said, "scratching only makes it worse. No matter how bad it itches, you should avoid scratching."

So that's what I was doing. Sitting in the dermatology waiting room not scratching. Thinking positive thoughts like how great it would be to jump into an ocean filled with ointment then lay on a blanket covered in anti-itch cooling gel.

"Mr. Witham? This way please."

I started to follow her toward one of the small exam rooms, then I stopped, lifted my right arm, and scratched like crazy. It was pure mayhem as the door closed behind me.


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