It was eight am when Cason found himself sitting in the waiting room of his clinic. In his work clothes and concrete work boots he felt out of place from the other much more polished patients waiting that morning. His refills were denied, a doctor’s visit was required. When he’d arrived for his appointment he’d been advised that his doctor had been pulled away on a family emergency and they were scheduling patients with other doctors. He’d be fitted in at some point, but they didn’t know when.
He’d asked if the nurse practitioner could just OK the refill. A resounding ‘no’ was given, there had been specific instructions that he be seen before the next refill.
Cason tried memorizing all the magazines on the wall first. Then counted the number of corners in the room before pacing to ease the sharpened stabbing in his hip that was now making his thigh go numb. It was nearly noon before he was called in. It was another half hour in the exam room, in the exposed exam gown, before the doctor came in.