A doctor should never laugh at his patients

Sunday afternoon brought a wind of about 35 miles per hour, a temperature just about 40 degrees and 22 head of silly little heifers in the crowding pens. I was not happy to work on Sunday, and the offspring were grumpier than me. So, we were not messing around. The chatter was limited to "hand me that" or "are you ready?" And we were moving as fast as possible.

The younger offspring was working the chute gate, and I was running the noser so I could squirt the medication into the nostrils of the heifers. The oldest offspring was pushing them through and crowding us pretty bad. He was already kicked and had been knocked over by the herd. The cattle were not hurting in the weather, they were enjoying the cool and being fat and sassy. They thought we were playing with them!

I sure was making good grabs, hitting the nose first try on most of the cattle. I was getting the medication in quickly and we were almost done. I stepped in front of the chute to look back into the crowding pen and the chute gate flew open and a 750-pound heifer plowed me under!

I did not know when the offspring carried me to the house, when my close relative cleaned me up or when I talked to them all and said I was fine. I was informed that I insisted on going back to the pens to finish the work, wanted to drink iced tea and was wondering where all the little ducks came from that were waddling across the yard. I finally lay down and went to sleep.

My close relative got me in to the doctor early Monday morning, and I was certainly banged up but mobile. My scrawny old legs felt like they were rubber and my arms were sore. My head was aching like it had a nail stuck into the top of it. I don't know if that is the truth because I have never had a nail in my head, but I figure that would hurt pretty bad!

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, a doctor should never laugh at his patients or make snide remarks about their cowboying abilities! The sacred trust between a man and his physician could be destroyed by side-splitting laughter poured on a defenseless aching cowboy by a trusted doctor! He finally dried his eyes that had teared up from his hard laughing and checked me over as a decent doctor would. He giggled once in a while, but mostly was busy avoiding looking me in the eye!

As we left the office, I heard him tell the lady at the front desk not to bill me for that visit. I suppose he marked it off as entertainment! I may slip a burr under his blanket some time.

Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette-area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.

Editorial on 02/04/2015