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the best medicine

Today I called the dermatologist’s office to get the “resultats de la biopsie sur mon mauvais bouton”.  I’m not sure what I feared more:   the results, or having to speak in French and offending someone for mangling their language.

Naturally the doctor was busy, so I spoke to the receptionist, who tried to take a message.   “Tried” being the key word.

She tried valiantly to speak English and I tried to speak French.   We ended up laughing so hard I could hear her gasping for breath.  After about 20 minutes, we had to hang up, because we were unable to conduct a conversation without laughing hysterically.  Hell, we couldn’t get a word out without laughing hysterically.

I still don’t know the results, but I know the doctor will call me back later.   I also know that if laughter is the best medicine, both the receptionist and I are going to be fine.


Update:   The doctor called back and the results are in fact,  fine.   

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