"C M Kornbluth - The Little Black Bag" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kornbluth C M)

"Dr. Full's sanitarium is spotlessly clean, from its tastefully furnished entrance hail to its shining white
treatment rooms. The attractive, blond receptionist who greeted the reporter was soft-spoken and
correct, asking only the reporter's name, address and the general nature of her complaint. This was given,
as usual, as 'nagging backache.' The receptionist asked the Herald's reporter to be seated, and a short
while later conducted her to a second-floor treatment room and introduced her to Dr. Full.

"Dr. Full's alleged past, as described by the medical society spokesman, is hard to reconcile with his
present appearance. He is a clear-eyed, white-haired man in his sixties, to judge by his appearance-a
little above middle height and apparently in good physical condition. His voice was firm and friendly,
untainted by the ingratiating whine of the shyster M.D. which the reporter has come to know too well.

"The receptionist did not leave the room as he began his examination after a few questions as to the
nature and location of the pain. As the reporter lay face down on a treatment table the doctor pressed
some instrument to the small of her back. In about one minute he made this astounding statement: 'Young
woman, there is no reason for you to have any pain where you say you do. I understand
they're saying nowadays that emotional upsets cause pains like that. You'd better go to a psychologist or
psychiatrist if the pain keeps up. There is no physical cause for it, so I can do nothing for you.'

"His frankness took the reporter's breath away. Had he guessed she was, so to speak, a spy in his
camp? She tried again: 'Well, doctor, perhaps you'd give me a physical checkup, I feel rundown all the
time, besides the pains. Maybe I need a tonic.' This is a never-failing bait to shyster M.D. 's-an invitation
for them to find all sorts of mysterious conditions wrong with a patient, each of which 'requires' an
expensive treatment. As explained in the first article of this series, of course, the reporter underwent a
thorough physical checkup before she embarked on her quack-hunt and was found to be in one hundred
percent perfect condition, with the exception of a 'scarred' area at the bottom tip of her left lung resulting
from a childhood attack of tuberculosis and a tendency toward 'hyperthyroidism'- overactivity of the
thyroid gland which makes it difficult to put on weight and sometimes causes a slight shortness of breath.

"Dr. Full consented to perform the examination, and took a number of shining, spotlessly clean
instruments from loops in a large board literally covered with instruments-most of them unfamiliar to the
reporter. The instrument with which he approached first was a tube with a curved dial in its surface and
two wires that ended on flat disks growing from its ends. He placed one of the disks on the back of the
reporter's right hand and the other on the back of her left. 'Reading the meter,' he called out some
number which the attentive receptionist took down on a ruled form. The same procedure was repeated
several times, thoroughly covering the reporter's anatomy and thoroughly convincing her that the doctor
was a complete quack. The reporter had never seen any such diagnostic procedure practiced during the
weeks she put in preparing for this series.

"The doctor then took the ruled sheet from the receptionist, conferred with her in low tones and said:
'You have a slightly overactive thyroid, young woman. And there's something wrong with your left
lung-not seriously, but I'd like a closer look.'

"He selected an instrument from the board which, the reporter knew, is called a 'speculum'-a scissorlike
device which spreads apart body openings such as the orifice of the ear, the nostril and so on, so that a
doctor can look in during an examination. The instrument was, however, too large to be an aural or nasal
speculum but too small to be anything else. As the Herald's reporter was about to ask further questions,
the attending receptionist told her: 'It's customary for us to blindfold our patients during lung
examinations-do you mind?' The reporter, bewildered, allowed her to tie a spotlessly clean bandage over
her eyes, and waited nervously for what would come next.