Jacob sat in the doctor’s office waiting. He was filled with worry and fed up. His symptoms had only worsened and been keeping him up at night too. When he called on Tuesday for an appointment and they told him the earliest the doctor could see him was Friday, he knew he was in for a rough few days. Now he sat in his chair and his mind raced with all kinds of thoughts. After what seemed like an eternity, the nurse finally appeared.

“Jacob, the doctor will see you now.”

“Oh that’s great. I hate to wait.”

The nurse led him down the little hallway to the even smaller room. She took his vitals and made some chitty-chat, but Jacob sat silently. He could feel the sweat on his face. He wondered what this doc would say. And could he do some good today?

The nurse left him with a magazine which he flipped through mindlessly. He sat as patiently as he could.

The doc appeared with his clipboard and stethoscope and in his full doctor regalia. Jacob always thought this doc looked like Trapper John MD or like some other TV doc he could never put his finger on.

“Hi Jacob, what seems to be the problem? Tell me what’s been going on.”

“Well doc it seems that I just rant. I try to stop but I just can’t. No matter what all day and night. It’s given me the biggest fright. I really don’t know what to do. Can you please help?  I’ve got no clue.”

“What do mean “just rant”?” the doctor asked. “What exactly is happening?  It’s okay Jacob. Try to be specific about your symptoms and we’ll see what we can do.”  The doc looked confused, but more so curious. He’d always known Jacob to be a quiet and low-key sort of fellow, not one to rant about anything.

This was so out of character.

“Doc it seems I’ve lost control. Inside of me deep in my soul.” He was close to tears and looked up at the doc appealingly, wanting and needing some glimmer of hope.

The doc flipped through the pages on the clipboard and looked at Jacob with thoughtful eyes.  What in the world?

“Jacob I can see you’re out of sorts.” He scribbled down some notes with a pencil.

Jacob watched the doc writing and lost patience. “Doc what is it, tell me please. I’ve tried real hard. I’m ill at ease. My head it hurts like everyday. From how I think and what I say.  See it won’t stop the raves and rants. Please can’t you hear? I’m in a trance.”

The doc stepped back and suddenly it was as if a lightbulb went over his head. “Jacob I’ve got it.” He reached up on the shelf and pulled down his old and dusty Doctor’s Book of Unexplainable Diseases and quickly started to leaf through it. “It sounds like what you have is very rare syndrome, and one I’ve never witnessed myself. Unfortunately from what I know, there’s no cure. I’d give you a pill if I could, but only rest will help. There’s much else we can do.”

Jacob stood up and was now eye-to-eye with the doc. He clutched and pulled on his white lab coat and pleaded, “I need a breakthrough can’t you tell? My life’s become a living hell. Please tell me what you can right now.  There is no cure? That’s crazy wow. Doc yesterday I saw a cop. I really tried to make it stop. He asked me what the hell was wrong. I answered him but sang in song. Please tell what I’m supposed to do. Please make it stop I’m begging you!”

“Jacob you have what’s called Rhyme Disease. You’re gonna have to learn to live with it.”




13 thoughts on “THERE IS NO CURE

  1. Dear Pete, I’ll tell you what I think
    Just stop the worry, have a drink
    Beer, whiskey, wine, liqueur or schnapps
    There’ll be no trouble with the cops
    I kind of like this side of you
    So now enjoy it, don’t be blue
    Not everyone could pull this off
    She said, with a discreet small cough

    (It’s early, Pete, don’t judge me)

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