There these medical students are, on the other side of a heavy iron door that has been locked against me, and instead of glorying within the inner sanctum, they seem to be throwing it all away. I then proceed to wonder indignantly why these little bastards think they are even fit to measure my cervix. My rage awakens a bit of the old me, and in my head I edit the version of these events that I will relate to Bill, and here insert myself yelling: “Write it down, motherfuckers; I’m going to be on the test!”
