If there's one thing that says "venerable cultural archetype of the genial country doctor," it's "plastic visiting kit."
I had one; it had a hypo with a red needle that disappeared when you pressed it into the flesh of your sister, as she screamed. Everything was made of cheap plastic; the glasses didn't stay on your nose. It came with pills, though: tiny red pills coated with sugar.
They went right away. And then you missed them. You couldn't write a prescription for yourself for more. What was the point of being a doctor, then? |
