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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