so the other day i went for a second opinion on whether i should have surgery on my ankle, and it was the worst doctor experience i've ever had. i was there for three hours, most of it waiting. i think the little kids who sob in doctor's offices are onto something. no wonder there are lollipops. i've come to realize there's just no way to get around it--my ability to run five miles a day for the rest of my life is contingent on some other person's idiosyncratic way of gathering information and synthesizing concepts. maybe orthopedists are a slightly slower breed of doctor--the golden retriever of the medical world, if you will--but i wish they wouldn't let it all hang out so much. this one wanted to take an x-ray with my foot turned in sharply, which admittedly was a new way for me, and a good idea, i think (tho he took all these other x-rays and didn't look at my MRIs, and if i had known he would do that, i would have brought my x-rays instead), and this x-ray involved putting my leg in a vice-grip-type thing, but not before studying the diagram on the back of the grip's assembly manual for a good five minutes while i was standing there watching him, and then turning a handle so that my foot would turn in and turn in until my ankle hurt. except he put the pushy part of the grip in the middle of my shin, so of course when you go to turn the knob, my shin will be the limiting factor for the turning, not my ankle. and i was like, you don't understand, my shin already hurts; my ankle does not. you must move the grip. so he moved it UP my leg, and my ankle turned even less because my shin was even more in the way. i was like, sir, if you please, move this grip thing close to my ankle, and you will see how very far it turns. i have a hard time with spatial relationships sometimes, so i understand how easy it is to completely flip spaces around like in a mirror and proceed confidently in precisely the wrong way, but my god, if you are a surgeon!! this alone (never mind the cruel assistant, the hours of waiting, and the lack of lollipops) exempted me from listening to anything he said thereafter. i was so mad by the time i got home that i went for a run in the dark on an uneven surface.