Mr. Underwood's Appointment

Mr. Underwood exited his Uber full of anxiety. It was bad enough that they had hit so much traffic on I-4, but his driver was late to boot. He watched the app as the driver sat still for a good five minutes at Wawa before heading to pick him up. They crawled for another 25 minutes in traffic, only to travel the 5 exits to get to his cardiologist’s office; all while listening to music in a foreign language, although he did catch the occasional “puta” in the lyrics. He had 5 minutes left to get to his appointment, an appointment he was already dreading to begin with.

Fortunately, the office door was right there, so he immediately called the number to allow him admittance due to Covid-19 restrictions. As the phone rang, he searched his pockets for his mask, desperate to catch his breath from the short walk to the door from the parking lot. A woman with a heavy Latin accent answered and asked him a series of questions about Covid-19 exposure. Mr. Underwood began to get more anxious as he was sick of answering these questions and could not find the mask he just had on in his Uber. He had an hour left before the parking lot at work opens. He just wanted to get this appointment over with.

Finally, someone came to the door to let him in. The nurse kindly asked, “would you mind taking off your mask and using one of these?”. “Take off my mask?” he asked. Mr. Underwood put his hand to his face and felt the fabric he had come accustomed to wearing. “Son of a bitch. Do you know how long I’ve been looking for this thing”? Mr. Underwood was both frustrated with himself and a bit amused, which relieved his anxiety a touch. “You can come straight to the back” the nurse directed. “We’ve had some cancellations today. Doctor Yellon is waiting in his office”. Mr. Underwood followed the nurse, whose name he had already forgotten, and was greeted by the doctor at the door, new pangs of anxiety rising in his chest.

“Mr. Underwood, please have a seat. We have the results of your tests” Doctor Yellon announced. “That is why I’m here”, Mr. Underwood thought to himself. Instead, he simply said “And?” “Mr. Underwood you have an enlarged heart. I’m going to start you on a series of medications to control your blood pressure and I want to see you back here in a month”. “Well, thanks for easing me into that” Mr. Underwood said sarcastically. “What exactly does this mean? Can I go back to work?”

“What do you do for a living Mr. Underwood?” the doctor asked with a tone indicating he was in a hurry. “I’m a parking attendant” he responded. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to return to work, at least until we see each other again. Nurse Rosario will give you some literature on your way out and help you set up your next appointment.” “Oh, ok. Thank you". Mr. Underwood blurted, dumbfounded, and not knowing what else to say. "How do I get out of here?”

Mr. Underwood proceeded down the hallway as directed, feeling completely lost, shocked, worried, more anxious than when he left this morning. “If I can’t work, how can I feed my boys” he wondered. “How can I tell my wife”. Mr. Underwood took a pamphlet from the nurse whose name he still could not remember and set his next appointment. He took out his phone, opened the Uber app, and set his destination for Disney World's Magic Kingdom.