John's Other Practice
By Winston Marks
Slot machines usually give you a big pain
in the wallet. But Cunningham's Symptometer was
more considerate—it also diagnosed the pain....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
July 1954
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
I knew that John Cunningham had been warned on graduation day that no man with a romantic nature should specialize in gynecology. John was not only a romanticist; he was also the best looking intern north of the equator.
The laws of probability functioned. Within three years, John Cunningham was married, divorced, disgraced and flat broke. And so it was that the winsome, six-foot, blonde-headed nurse's idol of the flashing smile and brilliant mind, approached life with three strangely related goals, namely: (1) To practice medicine successfully without (2) coming in contact with his patients, and yet (3) make back the family fortune he had squandered mixing potions with poetry.
In a much less interesting way, I, too, was diverted from an otherwise promising career in the practice of conventional 21st Century medicine. My final exam before the board revealed an aptitude that landed me a fat offer from the International Medical Association. The job was Special Investigator on the Malpractice Board of Control. My apparent immunity to emotional disturbances from the other sex, ironically, was the deciding factor of my appointment.