blog0910
A COVID-10 parable or how Saul was shanghaied into submission
My good friend Saul hadn’t been feeling well lately and in fact was feeling progressively worse so he called his family doctor, Dr. Frizzle, who said he had no appointments available but if he came in to the office at 4 he’d try to squeeze him in.
Which is what Saul did and an office manager who looked like Snookie escorted him to the waiting room where he waited and waited and waited until finally at about 6, Dr. Frizzle came in.
“Hi Saul,” said Dr. Frizzle. “Long time, no see. So how are you?”
“Well,” said Saul. “After two hours I’m older than I was.”
“Ah yes,” said Dr. Frizzle.”But younger than you’ll be.”
“I know and that’s not unusual,” said Saul.
Dr. Frizzle apologized for the long delay but said the practice had been sold and the new ownership was bottom-line oriented, big time and Dr. Frizzle was told to see as many patients as possible so revenues could be boosted.
So Saul told Dr. Frizzle that he had been feeling pretty lousy, with a slight shortness of breath, feeling bone tired and the weirdest thing was that last night Saul’s wife cooked up a very special meatloaf dinner and Saul couldn’t taste a thing.
“I see,” said Dr. Frizzle. “I’ll be right back.”
And Dr. Frizzle left the room and I heard him speaking loudly and someone answering ever more loudly though I couldn’t understand what the loud back and forth was about. That went on for a good half hour and Dr. Frizzle emerged but he had changed into his sport jacket and wasn’t wearing his white medical coat. He also did not look happy.
Saul saw all of this and got up to meet Dr. Frizzle just before he was about to leave the room.
“What is going on,” Saul asked his family doctor of 40 years.
“I’ve just been sacked,” said a distraught Dr. Frizzle. “It appears the new management and I don’t see eye to eye. Anyway he gave me $1,000 to sign a non-disclosure agreement so it’s not all bad and I can find another job or start a new practice in Massachusetts.”
“I’m so sorry Dr. Frizzle,” said Saul. “So what should I do? Can I speak with the new owner?”
Dr. Frizzle now could care less what happened and knocked on the door to the office of the new owner and said that Saul, the patient, wanted to speak with him.
“Send him in, Frizzle and don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” said the new owner.
Saul told the new owner that he didn’t understand what was happening but that he felt lousy, physically, as well as emotionally for his longtime, now former, family doctor, Dr. Frizzle.
“Well, not to worry, Saul,” said the new owner. “I read your chart and you have a bad cold. That’s all. Take fluids and rest and you’ll be fine.”
That did not make Saul feel any better but he figured that the new owner knew what he was talking about so he left and went home and took a two-hour nap.
A week went by and Saul continued to take fluids and rest but he got much worse. Not only was exhausted all the time and not only did he feel winded when he tied his shoelace but his wife’s chili had absolutely no taste at all and that was odd because she made exquisite chili.
Saul returned to the new owner’s office, looking for answers, which he got. He was escorted by Snookie to the owner’s office and was told to come in.
The new owner was sitting in a large chair with his back to him and Saul couldn’t help but notice that the new owner had orange hair with a really weird comb-over and that when he got up to look out the window, Saul saw that the new owner had a very large butt.
Saul explained his worsening symptoms and the new owner told him that he was very sorry to tell Saul that he had caught this really weird virus called COVID-19, which is becoming a worldwide pandemic and there was not much that could be done.
“When did you diagnose this?” asked Saul.
“Oh, I knew it when you met with Dr. Frizzle but I didn’t want to scare you and I hoped you would just wake up feeling better,” said the new owner. “Dr. Frizzle wanted to tell you but I fired him because he disagreed with me and felt you should know what’s up.”
Saul was getting madder by the second and explained to Dr. Frizzle that he sold ladies undergarments and regularly traveled to trade shows around the country where he came into contact with literally thousands of potential buyers of ladies undergarments and he asked the new owner if he could have spread the virus.
“The short answer is yes,” said the new owner, “but at least you had a few weeks when you didn’t walk around frightened to death about dying.”
Saul demanded to know how the new owner came to his decision.
“Are you an epidemiologist,” Saul asked the new owner.
“No,” said the new owner.
“Are you a medical doctor,” Saul asked the new owner.
“No,” said the new owner.
“Do you have an advanced degree in science,” Saul asked the new owner.
“No, sorry,” said the new owner
Saul asked him how he felt qualified to make a decision that very likely endangered the lives of thousands of people in the undergarment industry and their families and friends.
The new owner explained that he happened to be a genius and had graduated from the prestigious Wharton School after he paid a friend to take the entrance exam. And he asked that Saul not tell others about his experience or the new owner would be forced to take him to court and it would cost Saul thousands of dollars in legal fees and he would ultimately lose.
So Saul left with his tail between his legs, feeling very sick and wondering how this new owner got into the position of deciding on the fate of thousands and maybe millions of people.
And that was how Saul was shanghaied into submission.