So, there’s this place in town that performs complete physicals all in one location. It’s kind of a bizarre concept, really, but it seems pretty smart as well. I had tests performed that I’d never had done before (like an ultrasound of my liver, kidneys, and gall bladder…and getting blood drawn by an Armenian girl from San Luis Obispo who loves Zankou as much as we Angelinos do), so that was kind of cool.
But amidst the hustle and bustle from room to room for the battery of tests, I did meet with an actual MD.
Or did I?
I kid you not when I say this guy may have been a cyborg. Stop shaking your head; it could happen.
My evidence? Consider the following:
Exhibit A: Dr. knocks once and opens the door before I can say ahh. Upon seeing I am not in the correct ensemble for the particular exam he was supposed to conduct, he without warning turns around and closes the door again.
Exhibit B: An assistant comes in and gives me the proper paper products for the exam. As I’m changing, the same knock-and-door-opening routine…in spite of the fact that I tell him to hold on a minute. He opens the door and again, without warning, turns around and closes the door again. I’m a pretty loud person, so I knew he heard me. He could’ve saved himself the trouble.
Exhibit C: Throughout the entire exam, this was the first half of literally every sentence he spoke: “Now I am going to examine…”
Exhibit D: Cyborgs are often known to disappear mysteriously and without warning because of their complete disdain for humanity and/or a “wardrobe malfunction” (aka skin falling off, eyeball popping out of a socket, etc.). When staff members are talking with patients (like me, for example) about how the Dr. often disappears at random and might’ve very well left before discussing my test results with me, it raises my suspicion level to the “Titanium Skeleton” rating on the Cyborg Scare Scale.
Exhibit E: When Dr. reappeared from his skin refitting, he pulled the same verbal acrobatics from earlier, only this time, it was the second half of the sentence that remained the same: “…is normal.” That voice box that modulates instead of keeping the robotic speech in monotone sure is deceptive, though!
Exhibit F: Apparently, my deviation from the normal silence and/or dialogue anticipated from a patient threw the Dr. off, because when I asked him about a weird sensation I had in my ear, he replied with, “Thank you for coming in. Your results will be sent in four to six weeks.” No advice, no other acknowledgement, no response. If there hadn’t been a fleshy entity in front of me, I would’ve thought I was on the phone with one of those automated banking bots.
Cyborgs are taking over. You have been warned.