When Doc gets sick

        I have the best patients in the world.  Today I have laryngitis so bad I’m down to a whisper, and Myrd is having to interpret for me.  I can’t talk, so I gotta write.

        If I were the patient, I would be aggravated that Doc can’t give ’em his best.  Instead, all my patients are worried about me, but I really ain’t that sick- almost all of them are far worse off than me.  One of ’em took to praying for me.

        Dr. Dee said the office is reduced to a dull bore, but come Monday I’ll be back up to speed.

        Enough of all that, in the morning I’m gonna talk about Christmas, at least in print.

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