An old woman decided she had had enough waiting one afternoon.
She was eighty years old, and her life had been characterized by discipline, routine, and a fierce independence that only time could polish. She wasn’t the kind to whine, and she most definitely wasn’t the kind to run to the doctor for every minor ache. However, things were different this time.
She was unable to ignore the itch.
It began as a small issue that was simple to ignore. She thought the momentary annoyance would go away on its own. But as the days stretched into nights, the pain became more unbearable. It was no longer merely physical. It was constant, distracting, and getting more and more annoying.
At last, she scheduled a meeting.
She maintained a straight stance and a composed expression while sitting in the waiting area, as though nothing could possible disturb her composure. Quietly determined, she entered the examination room when her name was called.
She described her symptoms to the doctor, who listened.
He nodded, asked a few standard questions, and then confidently responded as if he has witnessed this before.
He said, “You have crabs.”
She gave a blink.
She briefly believed she had misheard him. However, the physician reiterated himself as though there was no room for question.
At that moment, she became a little less composed.
“That isn’t feasible,” she firmly stated. “At the age of eighty, I have never dated a man. I’ve spent my entire life as a virgin.
For a little moment, the doctor hesitated. Then, as though the explanation was unimportant, he shrugged.
“It occurs,” he answered.
Unconvinced, she exited the office.
She was clear that the response she had received was incorrect, yet she wasn’t angry or ashamed.
She then saw a different physician.
The first and second appointments seemed a lot alike. The routine is the same, but the office is different. In order to ensure that nothing was misinterpreted, she carefully and thoroughly described her symptoms once more.
After listening and after a quick examination, the second doctor came to the same conclusion.
He said, “It’s probably crabs.”
Her face became stern.
“No,” she said right away. “That isn’t feasible. As I mentioned earlier, I am eighty years old and have never been in a relationship like that. I could never have anything like that.
The physician shrugged noncommittally, providing neither a more thorough explanation nor a different theory. The identical response, given as though it were clear.
She was much more irritated as she left the workplace.
Two physicians came at the same conclusion, but neither of them appeared to be interested in paying attention.
She had decided on one item by the time she set up her third visit.
She was not going to leave without a meaningful response.
She didn’t waste any time going into the third doctor’s office.
“Doctor, I need your assistance,” she pleaded. Let me be clear before you say anything: I have an itch that won’t go away. Both of the doctors I’ve already seen said it was crabs. Crabs are not an option. At eighty years of age, I have never dated anyone. Therefore, whatever is happening is not that.
The physician examined her closely.
He took his time answering, in contrast to the others. He refrained from interjecting. All he did was nod and point to the examination table.
He said, “Let’s have a look.”
His tone had changed in some way. Not contemptuous. Not too sure about myself. Just concentrated.
Determined to receive a proper response at last, she climbed onto the table.
Compared to other exams, this one was more meticulous and comprehensive. Before drawing any judgments, the physician took his time to observe, verify, and make sure he fully understood what he was witnessing.
The room was silent for a moment.
A small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth as he took a step back and took off his gloves.
“Well, I can tell you one thing for sure,” he remarked.
She waited, sitting up a little.
“You’re entirely correct,” he added. “It’s not crabs.”
Her expression suddenly changed to one of relief.
“I was aware of it,” she remarked. “I informed them.”
The physician gave a nod.
“Yes,” he said. “And the explanation is actually much simpler in your case.”
Leaning forward, she anticipated something significant and intricate, something that would at last make sense of everything she had been going through.
Rather, the physician responded in a composed, almost informal manner.
“Things change at your age,” he remarked. And occasionally, when something has been neglected for an extended period of time…
He took a little break to allow the situation to calm down.
It draws in something quite different.
She scowled, perplexed.
“What do you mean?”
The physician grinned a little.
He said, “Let’s just say that this isn’t a case of crabs.”
After taking a quick look at his notes, he added, almost as an afterthought,
“This resembles fruit flies more.”
The room fell silent for a moment.
The message then fell into place.
All of the frustration, perplexity, and unwavering certainty came together to form an unexpected conclusion.
She was speechless as she gazed at him.
She had finally received her answer after all of this, three appointments, and constant insistence that the initial diagnosis couldn’t be correct.
It was not what she anticipated.
Not even close.
However, it was conclusive.
There was just one thing left to recognize as she descended from the table and adjusted her attire with the same subdued dignity she had carried into the room.
The truth isn’t always unexpected.
It’s more bizarre than you could have imagined.