Evening star., 1942-09-12

Henry McIemore. Is that / m
mortally afraid of doctors.
like doctors socially. They make
good golf companions. like to play
bridge with them, and like to have
dinner at their homes, as most OF
them set good tables. But. let a
doctor enter a sickroom where l am
the central decoration, and he scares
the wits out of me-and I'm the sort
of man who needs to have a few
wits scared into him, not out OF him,
Right off, I start lying to doctors.
7 always tell them I feel fine, that
7 haven't an ache or pain OF any
kind. I have told doctors this when
could scarcely hold up my head,
for fear an honest answer would
furnish them with clue as to what
was wrong with me.
If there is one thing that don't
want to know when I am sick, 1t is
what is wrong with me. When ]
am we'll and strong, and going about
my work, I wouldn't mind having q
doctor tell me there was something
dreadfully wrong with me. But
to be told that I had some specific
ailment when I was sick in bed and
couldn't fight it off, would be more
than I could stand.
The only reason called doctor
today was because of things that
began happening around my home.
n y X 4
In the first place, the dog started
practicing baytng outside my win
dow.
In the second, the maid sent my
dark blue serge suit to be pressed.
It's suit I haven't worn In months.
The doctor came. He was a new
one, and as ne thumped and pound
ed and oh-ed and ah-ed me, and
asked me questions to which I gave
false answers, l thought back over
the doctors of my experience.
The first doctor I remember was
DR.. Phillips, who pulled me through
Group, measles, chicken pox and q
nail In my left heel. He drove a
horse and buggy and had beard
longer than his horses tail.
AS look back, I'm convinced he
took your temperature with this
beard, because 1t was always in
your face, and you always sneezed
for an hour after he had gone.
DR.. Phillips was an old friend
of the family, and always spent an
hour in the living room, cutting up
old touches with your parents be-
fore he went upstairs to see the
patient. DR.. Phillips chief inter-
est was the patients tongue. He
looked at my tongue when I had
the nail in my foot, Just as many
times as he did when I had the
measles.
There was DR.. Thompson. 1t was
hard to figure out whether he
studied at Johns Hopkins or learned
his medicine under Dale Carnegie.
He beamed and smiled, chortled and
laughed, and acted as II your par
ticular ailment was just about the
funniest ailment he had ever en-
countered In his life. a
He always entered the room with
a happy step, swinging his little
black bag as If it were a tennis
racket and he were off for a fast
set of singles at the country club.
He told innumerable jokes, all of
which you had heard before, and
always took a seat on the edge Of
the bed, so he could be real chubby,
There was DR.. Coburn. He was
an 'm-m-m-mm- -er" and q FOOT
Taper. He would listen to your
heart and go "m-m-m-m" as If he
had never heard such a sound be-
fore. He would take your pulse and
then tap his foot and then gaze at
you as if he were undecided whether
| to hurry back to his Office and write
your case up for the medical jour-
nal, or try TO do something for you.
DR.. Coburn was very gloomy. He
somehow gave you the impression
when he said he would drop In to-
morrow that he never would-that
it would be too late for him to do
anything for you.
The doctor I had today was young
and CHEEKY. I don't know when I
have ever disliked man so much.
It's probably a part of modern
medicine, but he wanted to know
everything about me from the time
I could remember. He seemed to
regard my cold as the result of
something had done In early
childhood. Before he got through
didn't know whether he was a
doctor or a man who was thinking
of doing biography of me.
got only one satisfaction out of
his whole visit-that Is, that he
never got one word of truth out of
me. He left believing that I was
born Of millionaire parents in
villa in Cap Antilles, and that I felt
no symptoms of cold whatsoever.
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