I was walking one patient out to the lobby, she whispered, “hey I didn’t get your name.” I told her “I’m   Geena.” Then she said, “I like you.”

“Will you be here next time?” I shrugged my shoulders, “thank you” I smiled.

After an hour, as I was wrapping-up a consult with another not-so-65-ish lady, she cut me off saying “you know, I like you.”

“At first I thought you’re not nice because you’re yelling at me, but then, I like you. You are thorough.”  I thanked her. “Can I make you my PCP?” I told her that we are her PCP. “No, but I want to see you when I need to see my Doctor.”

So, yesterday’s scene in the Clinic was more of a triple X – version of my 9-year old boy who liked me.

It’s stressful and tasking to be in the Clinic by yourself, taking care of all appointments and urgent care patients for a meager pay on a 12-hour shift that does not pay you any overtime. And the consolation I get are the “likes” of some patients.

Maybe, I won’t be getting any “likes” from my cousin who was pissed-off, literally, after her insurance gave her a hard time filling up a prescription I called in. LOL.

Sigh, I should be out of this hell-ish environ.

Soon.

G.