The “Doctor”

They tricked me into going to medical. I avoid this place because it’s an easy way to get sick, being locked in a 12’ X 12’ concrete coffin with up to 30 other captives, coughing, sneezing and slinging snot onto every surface. Respiratory diseases are always rampant in these cave-like pest-holes. The young punks act like Day-care toddlers; snot dribbling down their chins after every juicy sneeze. Their moms never taught them to cover their mouths, and their Step Daddies never slapped them for machine-gun sneezing right over the table. Also, the prison Kops have some kind of horror of any captive possessing a rag to sneeze into or wipe our hands on: the Kop sees you with a rag they steal it from you, right then and there, even if they have to call their maggot-squad to take it away from you. Nobody knows why it is the most important thing in the world for them to get that rag away from you. They wouldn’t explain even if they knew why. Some synonymous nobody wrote it in a policy book long ago, and all of them just do it, by reflex, the same way a horse goes nutz with any quick wave of your arm. Only about half of these scary-bad criminals have sense enough to merely turn their heads when they go into a fit of coughing or sneezing. It’s like they have this culture of deliberate disrespect, thinking secretly “I got sick of you guys, so now you’re going to get sick of me!” When they first threw me into this GEO-corp slow-death camp, I almost died. They had a particularly vicious strain of pneumonia passing back and forth between the inmates. Medical assisted its spread by refusing to Rx cough syrup, so its germs were always on snot gobbets floating in the air and every knob, handrail, push plate, table and chair.