Paging Dr. Mengele


We were the only happy people entering the hospital. While everyone else was dealing with tumors and slipped discs and gonorrhea, we were the only ones with smiles on our faces. We were entering the medical facility not to fight an exit from this world, but to bring about an entrance. We were seven months from having a baby.

I came along for moral support. My love interest was the one carrying the future in her body. I figured I’d just hang out and catch up on reading some US Weekly in the waiting room to see what Brad and Angelina were adopting.

Little did I know I’d get my first visual evidence of our little one. There was a fuzzy humanoid shape. The doctor reassured us that everything down to the heartbeat looked great. Then she asked for the form we filled out when we entered the room. We shared our families’ medical histories and everything was peachy keen. There was only one box that had a check mark.

The doctor said, “I see one of you are descended from Ashkenazi Jews.”

“Yeah, that would be me.” I said. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be concerned if we are going the circumcise the kid? We don’t even know if it’s a boy yet.”

“Actually, we need to take your blood to see if you’re a carrier of any diseases.”

This was the reason I avoid doctors like a plague. As long as you have insurance that they can bill they can always find some test to run. This one I couldn’t say no to, it was about someone else’s health. I went into another room where they stuck a needle in me and began to fill several vials with my blood.

Perhaps it was the loss of vital fluid that made me loopy but I started having paranoid visions of Dr. Mengele. “It’s strange that you only ask for the blood of Jews.”

“We also ask for the blood of African-Americans and French Canadians.”

“So you pick on all oppressed minorities?”

“There’s a high ratio from those groups for difficulties with their children. But don’t worry I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Sure it will be. Now you have my blood in your database when you want to round up all the Jews, Blacks, and French Canadians. I grew even more wary of what they were doing to my Love Interest while I was in the lab.

“What were they saying to you while they sucked out my blood?”

“Nothing. I was changing back into my clothes.”

“They weren’t trying to talk you out of having a child with a Jew warning you our child was going to have 50% less Easter Bunnies and Christmas trees in their life.”

“You realize Mount Sinai is a Jewish hospital.” she said. Now I was wondering if they were shipping my blood to Israel.


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