Oreos with Hot Sauce

Yesterday, The Great Plotnik had a nice long splinter of redwood go into the spot between his little toe and the one next to it. He screeched, pulled it out, and forgot about it, until this morning when all of a sudden he bounced out of bed onto a sore right foot. Standing on one foot and holding his other foot up to the bathroom mirror, he thought he could see a red, kind of swollen area down there. But you can't see the bottom of your own foot.

Ducknik, with three pairs of glasses, couldn't see much either, but she, too, thought it might be somewhat inflamed.

You NEVER can see the stuff that can kill you. Remember this. For example, there is one spot on your back that is completely invisible to you, no matter which way you swivel your neck, and it's also the exact spot you can't possibly feel with your finger. Did you know that? Neither did Plotnik until Dr. I Dunno - Wadda You Think? told him he had a mole there.

Bearing this in mind, Plottie (after basketball) hied himself down to Kaiser.

This entire prelude is to tell you two interesting things:

1) On Gay Pride Day there is nobody at Kaiser. The parking lot is empty. The waiting rooms are empty. It's a great time to get sick.

2) You know that room that is always marked PRIVATE! AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY!...? Someone left the door on one of these rooms open today, and while Plotnik was waiting for the nurse to give him a tetanus shot, he looked into the room.

It's a lunch room. On a large, rectangular table were two items:
a) A giant, one-quart bottle of Tapatio Hot Sauce.
b) An empty Costco-sized bag of Oreo Cookies.

So while your doctor is telling you to watch your weight and avoid fatty foods, the orderlies are all eating Oreo cookies slathered in Tapatio Hot Sauce. Think about that the next time you're wondering why it always takes them so long to get to your exam room. Cookies. Hot sauce.