It is a commonly held belief that doctors don't like lawyers. Likewise, the lawyers I know view doctors with a certain suspicion. Just about the time a guy gets really into the practice of law, and begins earning enough money to allow him to do the things he wants to do, and to eat the things he wants to eat, along comes some doctor who tells the lawyer that he has heart trouble, or high blood pressure, or high cholesterol. Then the lawyer has to stop doing what he really wants to do, or stop eating what he really wants to eat, and some of the joy goes out of that lawyer's life. Doctors seem to be, for the most part, killjoys. I have always believed that if the medical profession was any good, it would come up with ways for a guy to do the things he really wanted to do, rather than always trying to stop him from doing it.

I've got a good doctor though. Doctor Louis Mayer and I seemed to have an understanding. I didn't bother him unless I was really sick, and he left me alone also. That's the kind of doctor to have. Then I found out I was allergic to cats. Since I have always held that "the only good cat is a dead cat", I always tried to stay away from cats as much as possible. But invariably I'd visit some friend who had a cat, and I'd come away with something akin to an asthma attack. Finally Barb said "You're going to the doctor to get something to take for your allergy!" and I gave my usual response. .."Yes, dear." So I called up Lou Mayer to make an appointment.

"How long has it been since your last physical?" Lou asked, and I knew I was in trouble. "You tell me!" I countered. "You're my doctor!"

"I've been your doctor for 15 years and you've never had a physical!" he answered. "You should have a physical! How long has it been?" When I told Lou that I remembered having a physical when I registered for the Selective Service in 1961, he said "You're going to have a physical! "

"Oh No!" I told him. "I know how you doctors are! You'll poke and prod, and then I'll have to pay you good money just to have you tell me that I have high cholesterol or something, and that I have to give up eating the things I like. I'm not that dumb!"

"You ARE going to have a physical! " said the good doctor, and that was that. So I had a physical. They poked and prodded, and I was told to come back the following Tuesday for the results.

When I showed up on the following Tuesday, there was Lou, looking very doctorly.

After getting some more family background, Lou asked me whether I liked sweet things. I told him that I seldom ate candy and that the only sweet thing I liked consistently was my wife, Barbara. "I like salty things" I said. "Things like potato chips, pretzels, popcorn."

"Salty things like that are bad for your blood pressure" said Lou. "Too much salt can cause high blood pressure."

OK, I said to myself, here it comes...here's where I get told the bad news...here's where I'm told what I have to give up. "What is my blood pressure?" I asked.

"117 over 80." Lou answered. "Is that bad?" I asked. "No. .." he answered, "In fact, it's quite good!"

"What else do you like to eat?" Lou asked me.

"Real greasy hamburgers!" I answered. "The kind where the juice runs down your chin."

"Too much grease can result in high cholesterol" Lou said sternly.

"OK, doc, " I said. "Give me the bad news. What's my cholesterol?"

"One seventy-six ! " Lou answered .

"What's it supposed to be?" I asked, fearing what I was about to hear.

"Well," Lou replied, "Anything under 200 isn't bad." Then, obviously trying to reconcile my answers with his test results, Lou muttered to himself, "It has got to be genetics!"

By now I was flying pretty high. But, obviously, no doctor, not even one as good as Lou Mayer, could stand to see a lawyer- patient escape his office completely unscathed. "How comfortable are you about your weight?" he asked.

"Doc," I said, "as a kid I was so skinny that when I stood sideways, you wouldn't know I was in the room. That's why I enjoy being hefty."

"Well it wouldn't hurt you to lose a couple of pounds!" said Lou, getting one shot in at me anyway, and then it was over and that was it! I couldn't believe it. I had passed!

I took my test results home to Barb, just as proud as the day I took home a report card with an A. Like I say, it pays to have a good doctor like Lou Mayer.