One afternoon while my (second) ex-wife and I were living in SanFrancisco, she twisted her ankle. It was quite painful and began to swell up. So, I helped her to the car and we went to the SF Med Center. I waited for her as she was taken here and there to one doctor or another, and at one point, to radiology for “pictures,” as they are called within the medical community. Joan was a petite, little lady, and as often was the case, was wearing a little, free-flowing miniskirt, no hose and thin, white, little
