At my doctor appointment last Friday, I was determined to finally get enough pain medication.

And it actually happened rather easily because my doctor is the shit.

His computer screen showed him that I had been prescribed Tramadol at the hospital when I had that infected toe back in December.

“What did you think of it? Did it help?” he asked me.

“Yeah, it was fine,” I replied.

He’s able to dole out more Tramadol than he is Hydrocodone without catching any bullshit. I now have enough to take two 50 mg Tramadol a day. I went yesterday to the drugstore and filled it.

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I’m as happy as Piglet doing The Charleston.

I also found out that he likes to swear.

I was bending over in my chair to take off my socks so that he could check my feet. I let a “damn it” slip out. (Bending over is painful.)

“Sorry Doctor G, I have a bit of a mouth on me,” I apologized.

“Oh, that’s alright. My favorite swear word is asshole.”

I laughed so hard that I almost fell out of my seat.

Yep, he’s a keeper.

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