Why?

I understand the idea of overworked and underpaid.

I understand cranky.

I understand being bombarded with ceaseless questions.

I understand having questions and wishing someone would answer them.

I understand bad hair days.

I understand the desire to be outside playing in warm weather over being inside working.

I understand hoping someone will sit down and truly listen to my fears.

But what I will never, never, ever understand is a doctor yelling at my sweet 80-year-old mother who is sick with a bad chest cold and telling her that her time is up before abruptly walking out of the exam room.

Why does God create these people?

I hope this callous, indifferent doctor never has to experience the insulting shock of hearing, “I don’t care.”

I hope there's a special place in hell for doctors like this.