THE SPOTLESS MIND
Ira Sharp sits in
the exam room, waiting for the doctor to arrive. There is a tap on the door and
his primary care physician enters the room.
“Mr. Sharp! It’s
good to see you, sir.” Dr. Young extends his hand.
“Oh…hi, doc. I was
expecting Dr. Johnson.”
“He retired three
years ago, Mr. Sharp. I’m Dr. Horace Young, your PCP.”
“So, old Johnson
retired, that son of a gun. Anyway, nice to meet you.”
“Uh…this is the
second time I’ve seen you, Mr. Sharp. Let’s see…the last time was six months
ago.”
“If you say so.
Hey, you know these gowns are a pain in the neck. It’s really hard to tie them
in the back. They should have Velcro, know what I mean?”
“I’ll make a note
of it.”
“I mean, I can put
my underwear on standing up, but I have a heck of a time with these dang ties.”
Dr. Young studies a
large, flat-screen monitor. “Let’s see…your lab results all look good, blood
pressure is normal. Let me listen to your chest here with my stethoscope.”
“Hey, that thing
is cold!”
“Sorry ’bout that.”
He completes his examination. “So, Mr. Sharp, what brings you in today?
Anything specific you want me to check?”
“Yeah, doc, there
is. I want you to give me one of those cognitive exams, you know, like
President Trump takes.”
“Oh, really? Why
is that, Mr. Sharp?”
“My friends are
giving me a hard time, tellin’ me I’m full of you-know-what. I want to take
that exam to show them I’m a genius, just like the president.”
“Sir, that’s
really not the purpose of a cognitive exam—”
“I know the
president took it three times, aced it every time. Do you think I’d have to
take it three times, doc?”
“Hmm… have you
been having any symptoms, Mr. Sharp? Any memory loss?”
“Will I have to
read something when I take the test? I think I left my glasses at home.”
“They're up on your
forehead, Mr. Sharp.”
“Oh yeah. Thanks, doc.”
“Now, about the test—”
“What test?”
“The cognitive
exam you were asking about.”
“Oh, that reminds
me. I want you to give me one of those cognitive tests, you know, like
President Trump.”
“Oh boy…” Dr. Young sighs, shakes his head, and types a note into the medical record...
Robust, healthy octogenarian presents, requesting a cognitive exam to certify his genius to skeptical friends. This is the third such request I’ve had this week. MACA…Make America Cognitive Again.
_____
No cognitive tests for you Mister Spooner. You are running on all cylinders.
ReplyDeleteHave you seen my keys, Tom? I'm sure I had 'em just a minute ago.
DeleteYour post got me wondering if I have ever heard President Trump actually use the word "cognitive" when referring to the tests he's been given. Here's how ChatGPT explains why I would wonder about that.
ReplyDelete..."He (President Trump) often talks about it (a cognitive test) as if it measures intelligence, or outright calls it an IQ test:
He has referred to it as an “IQ test” or “aptitude test” in remarks to reporters
He’s said it’s “very hard” and implied others wouldn’t score as well
Experts and reporters consistently note this is incorrect—the test is not designed to measure IQ.
I guess the obfuscation of truth lies in the purposeful conflagration of facts--and unfortunately, as Leonard Cohen sings, "Everybody Knows," but like the fairy tale "The Emperor's New Clothes" from Hans Christian Anderson, everyone is afraid to say anything until a child is brave enough to blurt it out. Where is that child now? Please hurry!
I nominate you to be "that child," Billie. It's never too late! (And I should have called it an IQ test.)
ReplyDelete