HAROLD
Waiting in the clinic was a pain in my behind, but I haven’t been feeling well. I’ve been complaining of pain in my joints, and after Morgan begged me to go to the doctor, I made an appointment to see Frank.
I always hated to go to the doctor. I felt typically healthy and strong. but my years were falling on me.
The nurse called me to a room, gesturing for me to sit on the bed before she took my temperature and blood pressure, leaving me afterwards to wait for him.
After what seemed like hours, Frank came in, looking at the charts in his hand.
“I’ve heard you haven’t been feeling well lately,” he asked, putting his stethoscope thingy and checking my heart. “We’ll make some tests to see what’s going on with you.”
“Frank, you know I don’t like coming to doct
