Yesterday Lynn O’Carroll brought me a note from the nursing home. It seems the young secretary over there couldn’t read my order. I don’t know why. After twenty-five years Lynn and Myrd can read my writing without fail. In fact, they can ’bout near skip the paper work and read my mind.
She handed me a copy of the order. “The secretary thought it read “one dab to leg today.”
I looked at it. “Hm. Looks okay to me. What did you think it said?”
“Oh, I got it. It says apply TID. She wanted to know how much a dab was.” (There are a lot of new school folks in the medical field nowadays.)
“Maybe you shoulda told her a little dab’ll do ya.”
Lynn smiled. “I’m afraid she was too young to get that either, Dr. B. I told her to just put on little bit three times a day.”
“Thanks for translating. Sometimes I wonder if I am getting too old for this business.”
“Naw, Doc. You’re just fooling ’em with the gray hair.”
Bless both Lynn and Myrd’s hearts. For a quarter century they’ve been making old Doc look better than what he is.
Dr. B
Dr. Tom Bibey: Stories of the Bluegrass Music Road 