Doctor's Visit

So, I finally went to the doctor yesterday to have my wrist examined...yes, more than 2 weeks later. The whole experience left me in a state of total "THAT'S WHY I HATE GOING TO THE DOCTOR". My appointment was at 11:20 am...I was taken into the back room to see the nurse practitioner at 12 pm. During my stay in the waiting room, I had the pleasure of conversing with an older gentlemen who clearly suffered from Alzheimers. He looked to be in his early-to-mid seventies, and was waiting for his wife, who was in the back having bloodwork done. He repeatedly made the same observations and asked the same questions over and over again, making the duration of my stay in the waiting room very uncomfortable:

(5 times)
Old G: Going to see Doctor F?
The Hag: Yup.
Old G: He's a great doctor. He's tough. He eats rails and shits spikes.

(3 times)
Old G: You gotta get up on the table and dance, move those feet.
The Hag: (to myself): WTF? I have no idea what he's saying.
Old G: You gotta shake the hips for the ladies.
(The receptionist looked my way on the 3rd and final time that he said this, and gave me a funny little smirk that said "You're nice for humoring him" to which I responded with a grimace that said "Like I have a frigging choice")

(3 times...twice to me...once to another guy in the room)
Old G: You see this (pointing to the Bruins logo on his jacket)?
The Hag: Yessir...go Bruins.
Old G: Yup...everyone loves them when they're winning. When the guy comes over to service my boiler, and he sees all the Bruins stuff I got in my basement, I tellim' "Don't touch...Don't want to break your fingers".
The Hag: (fake laughing) Yeah. I bet.

After spending a very awkward 5 minutes with this gentleman, I decided that I needed to extricate myself from the conversation. I executed the very effective "Stare at my cellphone with a very serious face, and pretend to read emails and make fake phonecalls". He got the point, and moved on. I really did feel bad for the guy, but it was one of those situation where I didn't want people to think I was associated with him because he was saying some really screwy stuff.

Outcome: The nurse performed a few preliminary health checks (seeing as how I haven't been in awhile), looked at my wrist, and then referred me to a radiologist for X-rays. I Haven't heard back yet. Oh well.