He sat there at the keyboard of his laptop, peering at the screen. He was not a happy camper. Our ten minutes together was over, and it had been a lot of fun while it lasted. A small joke, the ticker was okay, blood pressure normal, normal sounding arteries, medicine that seemed to be working okay. I was putting my shoes on, and he was at the keyboard of the computer the health service had given him, summarizing and documenting, tapping away at the keys, sending to Alabama or somewhere on Mars a form to get me a 90 day supply of medicine.
“Nice the way they make it so you don’t need an assistant any more.” I said. “Doing all the work yourself.”
“You noticed that huh?” he said. “Here I am, just like everyone else in the world, staring at the goddamn screen, filling in blanks. Data, data, data.” Read the full diary entry here