The Registration Form

Ah, the tongue depressor...

Rex didn’t like going to the doctor’s office more than he had to. Normally, he had to be on his death bed before he’d take time off from work to go see a person who would give him a prescription and not see him for another five years.

But his work’s new insurance company required him to get a physical so he could save $500 a year on premiums. It was a cat and mouse game the insurance played with employees to get them to reveal important but basic health information.

Because Rex went so infrequently, he had to fill out a load of paperwork just to get through the door, something he hated worse than seeing the doctor.

He was fine until he got to the section entitled Screening Test. First question, “Do you use oxygen?”

Is this a joke? Of course I use oxygen. Who doesn’t? What in the world do they have such a silly question like that on here? You’d think they’d have much more pressing questions to ask.

“Uh, Nurse?” Rex said. “Nurse, this question on here is weird. It’s asking if I use oxygen. Don’t we all?”

The nurse smiled. “Sir, I don’t think that’s what they want. Let me rephrase the question, ‘Do you carry around supplemental oxygen, like in an oxygen tank?’”

“Hmm. That’s a very different question, isn’t it? Why didn’t these boneheads ask that in the first place?”

“You’re absolutely right. I’ll make sure to notify my fellow boneheads when we update the form next time. Fair enough?”

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