Tales of Horror

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Offered in the spirit of Halloween:
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The doctor’s office was cold, so cold that I wished I’d worn a sweater vest or maybe a scarf. The paper covering the examination table crumpled further as I nervously shifted position. The doctor entered the room and closed the door.

“Well Mr. Smith, you’re in pretty good shape for a man your age. But you've got an elevated PSA level, and I’m going to have to examine you further.”

“PSA?” I asked, as my heart started beating with fear. “What’s that?”

“Prostate-Specific Antigen. Your score could indicate prostate cancer.”

A drop of nervous sweat dripped down the side of my face. In a voice half-hopeful, half-whimpering, I asked “So you’re going to do an X-ray or an MRI or something?”

The doctor’s laugh could only be described as satanic. “HAH HAH HAH, no. This will be more of a… digital test. HAH HAH HAH.”

Terror surged through me. All I managed to say was “But, but, but…”

“Exactly!” said the doctor through a malevolent smile, as the rubber glove snapped into place on his hand.

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