Harold is a tough customer. He is rough on the outside and not much smoother on the inside. Though he’s a good man, he is not a nice man.

The way Harold Brown sees it is he had some bad luck. His wife died just as he was preparing for retirement. Notice how I said Harold had the bad luck? Harold is a self-centered person and he never stopped to think that the bad luck belonged to his late wife Lorraine. Harold related her untimely passing to his own loss even thought it was Lorraine who would miss seeing her daughters married, and Lorraine who would never know the joy of grandchildren.

Life doesn’t wait for those licking their wounds, and Harold grudgingly moved on. He didn’t want to be alone and he didn’t quite like the company of others either. So Harold carefully shopped for a next wife who could provide him companionship yet not get too clingy. He wanted someone who had her own money because Harold did not like to share.

Two years after Lorraine’s passing Harold re-married. Adelle was a nice enough person. A little empty upstairs, but she suited Harold fine except for one thing. She had a bad ticker and died from a heart attack seven years in to their marriage. Her death was extremely inconvenient for Harold. It annoyed him that now he had to start the process all over again.

By now, Harold is showing his age and not the prize women are looking for. He is alone and getting more crabby and mean with each passing day. Harold’s plan was to re-marry quickly so he wouldn’t have to pay someone to drive him to doctor appointments and he would have someone to do the things women do – clean the house, prepare the meals and keep him company when he got lonely. His wish list was more suited for a caregiver than a wife and to no one’s surprise – except Harold, he got no takers. Not even a nibble. That’s where I come in.

I work for Harold, I take care of him. His daughters call me a saint and pay me well to take his insults, wipe his behind, and trim his ear hairs. I’m doing God’s work, so I’m okay with my lot.

Harold has a thing about doctors. He hates them. But he needs them and going to the doctor is about the only outing he has to look forward to.

Harold has a doctor visit on the calendar to see a gastroenterologist, Dr. Shah. The young doctor has two strikes against him before he ever met his new patient. Harold doesn’t like “young punks” and he doesn’t trust “foreigners”. Dr. Shah is both.

It takes Harold forever to enter a doctor’s office. He has Parkinson’s and shuffles slowly and carefully through each and every step. The wheels of his walker rotate ever so slightly until finally there is forward motion.

The doctor is already in the examining room before we enter. That never happens, rookie mistake. Yet, there he was, oh so patiently waiting for Harold Brown to make his entrance.

Dr. Shah swiveled around and got up from his little stool to greet him.

“Mr. Brown, I am Dr. Shah, good to meet you.”

Harold grimaced, then grunted. No reply.

I helped Harold get seated next to the doctor who was back on his swivel stool at the computer desk. And then Dr. Shah surprised us again. He turned away from the computer and scooted over to where Harold sat, faced him, looked him straight in the eyes...READ MORE