You know who?s undefeated for being everyone?s favourite hangout?

The doctor?s waiting room.

Nothing says luxury like sitting elbow to elbow with every Tom, Dick, and Harry while they cough like they?re trying to eject their fuckin colon onto the floor.

You?ve got one guy hacking like a dying lawnmower.

Another one blowing his nose straight into his hand like a proud caveman.

Then that same mucus mitt goes digging through the magazine rack like he?s panning for gold.

National Geographic.

Sports Illustrated.

Congrats champ, now we?re all sick.

If you weren?t fucked when you walked in, you?re definitely fucked when you walk out.

That room is basically a biological war crime.

Then after dodging cough spray and climbing over wads of toilet paper stuck to your shoe, they finally call your name and shove you into that tiny exam room.

And what do they decorate it with?

???

Rotten toenails.

Fingers bent sideways like they lost a fight with a lawn chair.

Eyeballs that look like they were run over by a shopping cart.

Apparently these posters are here to keep us from ?letting things go too far.?

Bullshit.

All they do is make your face scrunch up like you just ripped a real nasty fart in a packed elevator.

You?re pressed into the corner of the room like a kid watching a horror movie, whispering to yourself, please hurry the hell up, doc. I don?t want to look at this shit.

You start staring at the ceiling.

Counting cracks.

Sweating.

Then the doctor walks in and asks what brings you in today.

And suddenly your brain shuts off completely.

You forget why you?re there.

You forget your own name.

All you can do is point shakily at the poster and try to say, ?That?s nasty.?

But it comes out wrong.

Now the doctor thinks that?s what you have.

He nods real serious, tells you to take off your shoe, and starts writing you a prescription to fix whatever demon foot disease is staring back at him on the wall.

No no no no no.

I came in for a headache.

Not to lose a toe.

How about this crazy idea.

Instead of showing me horror-movie body parts, throw up a picture of a healthy human being.

Smiling.

Alive.

Two working eyes.

All ten toes still clocked in.

Just reassure me you know what you?re doing.

Because right now I feel like I walked into a museum of everything that?s about to go wrong with my body.

And I still don?t even know why the hell I came in.

?????????????...and that's callin' it like it is!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Canadian artist & digital troublemaker Colin John Cook shares his louder-than-life, awkward, and honest-as-hell stories. Packed with humour, real talk & creative insights in a no filter, digital comedy space that laughs at life & calls it like it is. He is also the Founder and President of

The Hidden Gallery - Art Studio & Micro Theatre