Mrs. Sanders
AfricanAmerican
Published
02/09/2008
The phone rings and the lady of the house answers, "Hello."
"Mrs. Sanders, please."
"Speaking."
"Mrs. Sanders, this is Doctor Jones at Saint Agnes Laboratory. When your doctor sent your husband's biopsy to the lab yesterday, a biopsy from another Mr. Sanders arrived as well, and we are now uncertain which one is your husband's. Frankly the results are either bad or terrible."
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Sanders asks nervously.
"Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer's and the other one tested positive for AIDS. We can't tell which is your husband's."
"That's dreadful! Can't you do the test again?" questioned Mrs. Sanders.
"Normally we can, but Discovery will only pay for these expensive tests one time."
"Well, what am I supposed to do now?"
"The people at Discovery recommend that you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don
"Mrs. Sanders, please."
"Speaking."
"Mrs. Sanders, this is Doctor Jones at Saint Agnes Laboratory. When your doctor sent your husband's biopsy to the lab yesterday, a biopsy from another Mr. Sanders arrived as well, and we are now uncertain which one is your husband's. Frankly the results are either bad or terrible."
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Sanders asks nervously.
"Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer's and the other one tested positive for AIDS. We can't tell which is your husband's."
"That's dreadful! Can't you do the test again?" questioned Mrs. Sanders.
"Normally we can, but Discovery will only pay for these expensive tests one time."
"Well, what am I supposed to do now?"
"The people at Discovery recommend that you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don
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