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I Didn’t Know How Young I Really Was (standard:humor, 903 words)
Author: GodspenmanAdded: Oct 12 2019Views/Reads: 1335/1020Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I am at the place now where I can begin to enjoy the fruit of my old age.
 



I have heard it said that confession is good for the soul. I want to
take that a step further and say confession is good for the body as 
well. 

I don't often think about how old I am, I'm too busy with other
thoughts. Occasionally, something happens that reminds me I am not 
quite as old as I think I am. Do not get me wrong, it is a good 
experience for soul and body. 

When I get up in the morning, I feel achy, not to mention grouchy
because the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage mentions that. I get up 
feeling old and dreary. I wallow in despair, thinking how old I really 
am and not knowing what to do with it. 

Oh, poor me, woe is me. 

Something happened this past week that gave me a completely different
view of how old I really am. 

I had an appointment to go to the doctor to have my annual blood work
done. Every year this doctor wants a sample of my blood for who knows 
why. He is obsessed with my blood and tries to get it every time he 
can. Being the good patient I am, I concede to his request. 

I had an appointment across town to get the blood work done and got
there well before my appointment. Therefore, I had to sit in the 
waiting room until my appointment time. 

I usually take a book with me to read because I know that doctors, as
educated as they are, do not seem to know how to tell time. So, instead 
of wasting that time, I take a book and get caught up on some reading I 
have to do. You cannot read too many books. 

While I was quietly reading my book, all of a sudden, I heard a bang and
the door flew open and in came a woman with a walker. I will not say 
she was an old woman, but youth was in her past as far back as you 
possibly could go. 

When she came in, the whole atmosphere of that room changed and not in
the positive. As soon as her head got through the door, you could see a 
grimace on her face to beat all grimaces. It scared me at first. I have 
never seen such a mean looking face. 

Then she begins snarling. “Get out of my way. Where's my doctor? I want
to see him now.” 

I was not in her way, but I certainly got further from her way as I
possibly could. I am not sure how old she was but she had grouchy down 
to a fine-tuned art. I think all of us in the room were praying that 
the doctor would take her in right away. 

Thankfully, our prayers were answered. She was escorted out and you
could hear a deep sigh in that room. I do not think I would have wanted 
to be her doctor that day, at least. 

I was finally settling down and back to my book when the door opened
again. In walked an older gentleman, and I use the word gentleman very 
carefully, with a cane. 

He rumbled up to the window to sign in and the lady politely asked who
he was. 

Looking at her with eyes that would have scared a tiger he said, “Who do
you think I am?” 

That is not all he said, but some words I would not want to repeat even
in the dark. Obviously, he was old enough to know all the curse words 
in the dictionary. He mentioned some words that I had never heard 
before and I am quite sure they are not in the English dictionary. 

He signed his name and then hobbled over to take a seat and then glanced
at me and said, “What are you staring at?” Again, I cannot use all the 
words he used. 

Believe me, when I say I was tempted to tell him what I was looking at.


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