Saturday, May 14, 2011

Dear Narcotic Seeker, an Open Letter...

I see you have had a number of visits for your Holy Trinity of Chronic Complaints (dental pain, back pain, migraine).  I make no apology for placing you in the waiting room.  Just so you know, the medical professionals upon whom you depend for your endless supply of prescriptions for Percocet are busy with actual emergencies today.  Two happen to be busy trying very hard not to die, one before we can get a helicopter here to transport her to Big City Hospital. 

Ellen, our secretary to whom you give the same information every time you come in, is busy trying to assist the professional staff by making phone calls and other duties since the nurses are up to their assholes in alligators.  It is inappropriate for you to lie on the floor in the waiting room and moan for a blanket. Frankly, we just don't care what you do or how much you act like a total douche; however, you are a distraction for Ellen, and you are making the small children and your fellow douchetards in the waiting area uncomfortable. 

If you sit in the chair like a grown-up and behave yourself, you might be seen by the doctor in the next two hours.  You might get one Percocet if you are a good little narc-seeker; however, telling me "Kiss my ass!" is not going to endear you to anyone.
With Disgust,