'Good morning, Mr Eddings. Here for your check up?'
'I am indeed Doctor. And might I say you're looking lovely as usual. Were I a younger man-'
'-you would date me in a heartbeat, yes I know. You told me last time, and the time before that.'
Dr Jordon smiled at the old man's good spirits. They were such a rare thing to come by in her clinic.
'Anyway, I'll get started with the usual. Have you had any complaints since your last check up?'
'Yes actually. I've had this nasty cough. The other doctor gave me a shot for it, but it doesn't seem to have done anything. I tell you, the work you put in keeping that damned virus out, and you can't solve a simple cough.'
The doctor's smile faltered. She had come across a sore in the back of the old man's head. The veins around it had blackened. She checked the man's chart.
'Mr Eddings, you haven't been to the clinic in a couple weeks.'
'Nonsense, I went to that new one down on Cathedral Road. I told you, the nice man gave me a shot for my cough.'
'Mr Eddings, there is no...one second, Mr Eddings.'
'Is everything alright dear?'
'It's alright Mr Eddings, nothing to worry about. Listen, I think the young doctor you saw before might have given you the wrong medication, so I'm going to give you something to sort that pesky cough out, ok?'
'You're an angel Dr Jordon.'
'You're kind to say so Mr Eddings. Too kind.'
__________
Dr Jordon wiped tears from her face while she waited for the barbiturates to take effect. For her own safety she would have to call the disposal team as soon as she could. For the moment however, she had a much more important duty to her people. She picked up a microphone and connected to the citywide PA. Her voice rang out strong through the streets.
'This is Dr Jordon, of the West Street clinic on the Emergency Broadcast. It has come to my attention that some new clinics have been appearing over the city. Please be forewarned, we have not authorised the construction of any new clinics. Should you enter one, you will be at great risk of exposure. I repeat, do not approach any new clinics you see...'
She hesitated.
'...They're back.'
'I am indeed Doctor. And might I say you're looking lovely as usual. Were I a younger man-'
'-you would date me in a heartbeat, yes I know. You told me last time, and the time before that.'
Dr Jordon smiled at the old man's good spirits. They were such a rare thing to come by in her clinic.
'Anyway, I'll get started with the usual. Have you had any complaints since your last check up?'
'Yes actually. I've had this nasty cough. The other doctor gave me a shot for it, but it doesn't seem to have done anything. I tell you, the work you put in keeping that damned virus out, and you can't solve a simple cough.'
The doctor's smile faltered. She had come across a sore in the back of the old man's head. The veins around it had blackened. She checked the man's chart.
'Mr Eddings, you haven't been to the clinic in a couple weeks.'
'Nonsense, I went to that new one down on Cathedral Road. I told you, the nice man gave me a shot for my cough.'
'Mr Eddings, there is no...one second, Mr Eddings.'
'Is everything alright dear?'
'It's alright Mr Eddings, nothing to worry about. Listen, I think the young doctor you saw before might have given you the wrong medication, so I'm going to give you something to sort that pesky cough out, ok?'
'You're an angel Dr Jordon.'
'You're kind to say so Mr Eddings. Too kind.'
__________
Dr Jordon wiped tears from her face while she waited for the barbiturates to take effect. For her own safety she would have to call the disposal team as soon as she could. For the moment however, she had a much more important duty to her people. She picked up a microphone and connected to the citywide PA. Her voice rang out strong through the streets.
'This is Dr Jordon, of the West Street clinic on the Emergency Broadcast. It has come to my attention that some new clinics have been appearing over the city. Please be forewarned, we have not authorised the construction of any new clinics. Should you enter one, you will be at great risk of exposure. I repeat, do not approach any new clinics you see...'
She hesitated.
'...They're back.'
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2 comments:
Is this an analogy for the increase in ageism in the 21st century?
The 'new' clinics clearly are representative of the 'new' and young generation, and Dr Jordan is constantly trying to maintain the old ways and traditions while struggling against a 'virus' - again, an analog for the young generation.
Very thoughtful. I like this.
It's really just a setting piece, something my mind threw together, maybe with the intention of doing something more in the same vein. But I love that you got what you did from it. That's what I love about (at the risk of sounding conceited) art. It resonates differently to different people. It's not about what the artist/author/skinny post-teen typing away in his room wanted to convay, it's about whatever the viewer reads into it.
Thank you, anonymous commenter. You've given me something to think about.
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