My Raisin Is In The Sun.

LANGSTON HUGHES

It only took me six days to officially be sick of government medicine. The exact moment is a little harder to come by.

Maybe when I called one preceptor over to have a look at a draining pustule and he prescribed 7 days worth of band-aids without even looking at it. Maybe when the PA on assignment here said he thought about quitting every day of his life for fifteen years, and then decided he would stick it out 5 more until retirement--And he's giving me career advice as he says this!
It could have been when the guy who can barely walk and who obviously needs an MRI for his swollen knee gets two ACE bandages and NSAIDs. If he's stubborn enough to come back he'll get an x-ray. And then he'll stand (sorry--he can't stand) in line for an MRI. And then? I dunno. He might get a knee brace, or something along those lines. He might get referred out to ortho. He also has a badly swollen right middle finger, post dislocation and reduction, with some sensory changes along certain aspects of the finger. But it wasn't really discussed. One thing at a time.

As I walk out the door to freedom, I can hear the guards blasting away on the shooting range next to the facility.

I'm reminded why we're all here.