Typical Day
It's 3:00AM and Doctor Maku Feelgood has been asleep for all of 90 minutes when his cell phone wakes him with a start.
"Hello?"
"Doc, it's me. It's an emergency. You gotta come over right away."
Dr. Feelgood knows who it is immediately, without a doubt. He only has twenty retainers out at the moment, and of those only two ever call him past midnight typically unless, of course, it's a real emergency. Which this isn't. He knows because this particular client, one of the two rappers on his list, has an emergency at least once a week. Usually, on a weeknight. The other Rapper or rather "artist" who wakes him from a dead sleep is strictly a weekend caller. This is Tuesday, so it has to be.
"A. and I.—what's going on?"
"I—I can't feel my toes, Doc. This is serious. I need my toes."
"Of course you do," Feelgood groggily wipes the goop that hasn't even had a chance to crust over yet from the corner of his eyes and reaches for his glasses. If he can talk A. and I. out of whatever he thinks is wrong with him this time, he'll save himself a trip over the hill to Calabasas.
And at this time of night, the 101 is a total speed trap, peppered with cops handing out tickets like candy to all unsuspecting motorists of high performance foreign automobiles that can't resist the call of an open stretch of Southern California freeway.
Dr. Feelgood has gotten a jar full of two hundred dollar tickets in the past month, since A.and I. decided to leave the multi-million dollar party pad in the Hollywood Hills for the quiet suburban Calabasas gated community—supposedly so he could get more work done.
"Can you come over now?"
"Of course, I can. I'll be right there."
"Hurry, Doc. It's getting worse."
Dr. Feelgood quickly throws on the Armani ensemble he has pressed and ready for late night calls, grabs his doctor bag, and hops into his high performance, Mercedes convertible.
After bidding adieu to the CHP officer and accepting his speeding ticket as part and parcel of the evening, he wonders if he can write the ticket off his taxes as a business expense (he can't).
It's 3:45 by the time he arrives at A.and I.'s posh crib and the tall rapper, sporting a full head of green hair opens the door to let him in.
"What took you so long, Doc?"
"I'm sorry. I came as soon as I could. Well, it looks like you're at least able to walk."
"Yeah, well I'm still having difficulty feeling my toes."
Dr. Feelgood sits his patient down and with an expert touch, unties his patient's extravagantly-priced footwear.
"New shoes?" the doctor asks."
"Yeah, they were a gift to me from Little J. He was just here. He dropped them off for me as a sort of official month before my birthday present. You like 'em?"
Little J was Dr. Feelgood's weekend waking rapper client. He and A. and I. were often in a love-hate relationship, which the doc was starting to suspect might have something to do with the problem with A. and I.'s toes.
The minute the doc removes the much too tight, overpriced athletic wear from his patient's feet, A. and I. breathes an audible sigh of relief.
"Wow, I don't know what you did, but I feel better already, Doc," he says.
After checking the pulse in A.and I.'s foot as well as all of his vitals, Dr. Feelgood bids his rapper patient goodnight and heads back over the hill to get a few hours sleep before his next scheduled visit. He makes sure to slow down on the way back.
It's 10:00AM and Dr. Feelgood is refreshed and ready, as he grabs a healthy breakfast and heads on over to the popular movie studio, where his client, a famous tween heartthrob has been having some concerns over a bout with bronchitis that threatens to delay principal shooting of his latest musical movie extravaganza that's set to begin that week.
Dr. Feelgood does a thorough exam and determines that the infection is healing nicely. A vitamin B-shot later and he warns his patient to save his strength, drink lots of hot fluids, and try to rest before shooting starts. He makes a note in his phone to remind him to visit the set next week to check up on the boy unless he hears from his manager first.
At 11:30AM, the doctor swings by a Hollywood apartment building and checks on an elderly patient of his, a former RKO actress and reclusive star who once was a lead in elaborate musicals and romantic comedies with her long-gone dancing partner. Aside from being a little underweight, she looks terrific for her age and her health seems pretty spot on.
She thanks the doc and has her assistant hand him an autographed black and white glossy photo of her from her heyday on his way out. It is the 22nd copy of the photo he has received from her, but he accepts it graciously as always.
Around 1:00PM, after grabbing a quick chili dog at Pinks from around the corner, Dr. Feelgood heads up the coast to Malibu, where one of his patients has been suffering from pre-eclampsia in her 8th month of pregnancy. Dr. Feelgood checks her blood pressure; then does a quick ultra sound, which he grabs from the trunk of his car, as well as hooking her up to a fetal monitor and checking on the baby's heartbeat for a good half hour.
Both mother and fetus seem to be okay for the moment, but he reminds his patient, the wife of a foreign diplomat who has already won the Nobel Peace Prize, to take it easy and call him at the first sign of trouble.
At 4:00PM, Dr. Feelgood heads back home to catch up on some paperwork and grab a quick bite before his next patient's appointment, backstage at a big awards show.
At 8:00PM, dressed in black tie, Dr. Feelgood checks backstage on his patient, a well-known pop star diva with a powerhouse voice that has been giving her trouble recently. Dr. Feelgood gives her a quick physical and determines that she needs to be scoped to check for polyps on her vocal chords. After sticking a tiny camera down her throat, the doctor determines that it's best she gives her voice a rest and hold off on the singing tonight (accepting her award will be just fine though, he assures her).
She's not happy. In fact, the unnamed diva shouts a few choice words at the doctor, who reminds her not to strain her voice any further or it will make the issue worse. The doctor then mulls backstage with all of the music world's hot shots, many of whom he is on a first name basis with.
A few new faces, up and coming stars, ask for the doctor's card and he more than happily hands them out, although he warns them he likes to keep his client list intentionally small so he can devote his time and energy to the patients he already has. Still, he might take on a new patient or two. After all, he does have bills to pay.
At 11:45PM, Dr. Feelgood heads home for a few hours of sleep before his phone goes off again with his next patient and next adventure.