Dr. ‘Handy’ Forestaller, MD, whom the Baptist Healthcare Roulette selected as M-0253’s primary physician in America, is an English-bred doctor who feels duty bound to forestall expensive care for Disadvantage Plan beneficiaries at Universal Baptist, sincerely believing, in accordance with his experience with social medicine in the Mother Country and the latest revision of the Hippocratical Sacred Oath, that he is providing the most efficient service for all concerned, working at least 70 hours per week to that end.
I selected him from a choice of three doctors in my neighborhood as my primary because we have the same mother country; indeed, the best one in my opinion.
I asked him on my first visit if he believes our United States Constitution is a bad mistake with its conflicting branches. He responded, tersely, that he confined his professional opinions to medical concerns. He hastened to shush me and listen for my heartbeat when I responded that our American constitution is being proven dangerous to the health of American seniors due to the Medicare Disadvantage privatization of healthcare, and then asked how anyone could know for sure if the primary doctors that replaced general practitioners are practicing to the advantage of their patients or the profiteers they work for.
Unfortunately for his peace of mind, if the gossip at the Boots and Saddle Club is true, the good doctor has phallophobia, an exceedingly unusual affliction in rather gay South Beach, possibly interfering with his British judgement (the absence of an “e” in “judgement” is reserved for cavilers and pettifoggers). Moreover, he does not examine prostate glands, referring that practice to specialists far away from the clinic. Whether that is a symptom of phallophobia I cannot say for certain because I am not a doctor. Maybe not; after all, these network primaries perform few medical procedures themselves, their duties being limited to asking a few questions, listening to heartbeats, taking one's pulse, and filling out forms on computers instead of feeling swollen prostate glands and the like, and then sending patients on what is most likely a wild goose chase until they croak.
That being said, I like Dr. Forestaller. I saw him heading for the Exit with his backpack after he got off one day. His frown indicated to me that he was disturbed by the conflicts of interest of the U.S. medical system and the hypocrisy of religious healthcare. Soon thereafter, he was suddenly removed to Baptist Universal headquarters. I understand from a nurse that a close eye is kept on him there by informants for ‘Boss’ Bojangles, the revered institution’s CEO, whose compensation is rather low at $17 million per annum. I note that the celebrated nonprofit hustles the wealthy and bulging belly Christian bourgeoisie with multimillion dollar advertising campaigns featuring free care for poor athletic kids, inducing potential donors to contribute massive sums to The Baptist Universal Charity Fund; a great deal of the donations is invested in healthcare temples filled with the latest machines proudly shown off in mainstream media in order to raise even more money.
Phallophobia may have motivated Dr. Forestaller to forestall referring me to the famous testosterone doctor who serves the rich and famous at Baptist Universal. I told him that I was exceedingly weary and musclemen at the gym were praising T to no end, but he said no dice, my T level was OK for an old man, and T could give me a heart attack. I could get some T without a prescription in the locker room, I suppose, and have my heart attack bulked up and be duly erect what with all the pretty women around the gym. He did, however, refer me to a shrink named Sara Luna after I told him I was arranging for stem cell brain regeneration treatment in Kiev.