Spinal Manipulation

I hate being late. I religiously set my alarm earlier than necessary. Yes, I'm one of those annoyingly on-time people. For me, it's a respect issue. Time is precious. That's not to say that I don't understand the occasional act-of-God (deer) circumstance or even traffic etc. But on an unseasonably warm November morning, I was sleeping late.

Abruptly awaking from a dream about abruptly awaking late form a dream, I was blinded by the sun blazing through the window. Oh, shit, I thought.

Barrel-rolling out of bed, I did the in-a-hurry one legged skirt-pull-on. Grabbing a shirt, I scrambled to the bathroom and acrobatically shoved my toothbrush into my face whilst slathering on some foundation and clobbering my lashes with mascara. No time for coffee, running on fumes today. I checked the microwave clock, damnit, I had 15--no 13 minutes to be at work, a 30+ mile drive.

Shodding my feet with black and tan heels , I galloped to the truck (I had totaled the sedan with Bambi's teen aged mom a few weeks earlier).

Arriving to work almost an hour late, I apologized and began to organize the files for the day. My boss, a chiropractor, was ambling a bit and informed me that he had been having "severe pain between his shoulder blades and  saw stars and almost passed out yesterday." Immediately, I offered a ride to the hospital, he declined.

About an hour later, I heard a sickening thud come from his office.  I knew something was wrong, the back pain combined with the ambling. I reached his office in two dashes. There he lay on the cold linoleum floor, completely passed out, glasses broken. A few second later he came to, mumbling. I asked what he wanted me to do, he was a doctor after all, he told me not to call 911, but then he passed out again.

Heart pounding, I called 911. The phone rang too long for my liking. Eventually, someone answered. I described the situation and the operator dispatched an ambulance. Fortunately, the hospital was less than a mile away. While on the phone, the Dr. came to again and yelled at me for calling 911. I shrugged and told him, "It's not really up to you right now."

The paramedics came, asked a lot of questions, then loaded him into an ambulance. They sat in the street for what felt like forever and then drove off, no sirens. That's not good, I thought.

***

My boss (former) had had an aortic dissection, had to be airlifted to the University of Minnesota Medical Center, spent 9 hours in surgery and a week in a medically induced coma. Scary right? It gets scarier.

While the Dr. was "out," it was discovered, unbeknownst to me, that he and his practice had been committing X-ray (no functioning machine, yet charging patients for the service) and subsequently insurance fraud. He had also violated a probation on his D.C. license. His license had been on a probationary status for drinking on the job. It turns out he had been arrested for a DWI in September. Would you want a drunk cracking your spine? I don't think so.

What's more, the not-so-good- Doctor never filed taxes with the state, so I cannot receive unemployment benefits nor can I file my taxes. He also never gave me my last paycheck. In my mind, he wanted to die on the floor of his office, no blood on my hands though.

I hope he lives a long life in the hell he created.