A Different Kind of Medicine A Different Kind of Doctor

By Stanley Singleton

Kenneth Landry has always been taught to dislike the medical profession, but that feeling takes on an entirely more personal level when he meets the very unusual Dr. Myers.
"What kind of doctor does that? Should I report him? Who would I report him to?"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stanley Singleton
• Release date: Feb 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201638665

Stanley Singleton

Why I choose writing? Writing choose me and the person directly responsible for this is my Grandma. She was a housekeeper and every evening she would bring home the previous day's newspaper for me. The people she worked for would read it and save it for her to bring home to me. It didn't matter that I was always reading a day old paper. I read every word on every single page. A few years later after I had graduated from college, my goal was to write for that newspaper. She was so proud when I got an interview for a reporter's job.  Back then there were not any black reporters at that paper. This is one of those it was just like yesterday moments. I can easily remember sitting in an office writing an article as part of the interview process. A group of young white reporters came to the door smiling and one of them said    "look at that reporter writing a story."  I was so jacked up to hear that and looking forward to working with them.  When they were walking away that same person said loud enough for me to hear    "look at that reporter never getting a story published."  All of the group burst out laughing. That punch in the gut made me want to run out of there and go back home. I finished writing the article, not really paying attention to what I was writing because at that point all I could think about was how they had laughed at me for trying to do what they did without even knowing if I had the talent.  I lied to my grandma and told her that everything went well. But I was hurting and didn't want her to hurt with me, but a determination was being born I didn't fully grasp it at the time, but everytime I read their newspaper or drove by that building it grew and now here we are.

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Copyright © 2021 Stanley Singleton

A Different Kind of Medicine

A Different Kind of Doctor 

By Stanley Singleton

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or any other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission from the copyright owner except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests write to the copyright owner at the address listed below

Copyright ©2021 Stanley Singleton

Stanley Singleton

302 Courtyard East

Beaufort, North Carolina 28516

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There is a group of people in this world who proudly call themselves doctors, and before being introduced to the wisdom of Jamaican weed I was foolish enough to think that there were only three kinds of doctors.

There were doctors who taught in classrooms and liked to use words that made them seem smarter than everyone else. These doctors were ok, a little boring but safe😃.

Next were those Doctor Reverends or Reverend Doctors. I always got them confused. They had a lot of energy and told people about how great God is. They could make people do kind things💒😇. A lot more about them later.

And then there were those doctors that were always happy when people were sick, hurt or not right in the head because that’s how they got the big bucks, from telling people how sick they were and then charging them a lot of money for the cure. It’s like medical blackmail.

I know what is wrong with you and I can cure you, but first you need to pay up😜💰💰💲💲💵

These were the doctors that I had been taught not to like and the reason for my different kind of medicine😎.

And just when I thought that I knew everything about doctors, had them all figured out, Dr. Jack Myers came into my life and everything changed😱.

"My name is Kenneth Landry, but by the time that you finish reading my adventure most likely you will probably have a few more colorful names for me because as you browse my story, you’re probably not going to like me very much and certainly won’t feel sorry for what happened to me, unless your heart is made of love💞.

But one thing that is certain about my tale is that you will see some of yourself in me, especially the part that you are ashamed off. FYI, there’s not any shame in me mostly because of a lack of most of the basic morals that people are so fond of seeing in others. I can be despicable and enjoy every second of it.

A prefect ‘for example’ of my lack of morals are the things that give me pleasure and what I exist for, cheap booze, hookers, strippers and weed, lots of weed😵. In addition, I am also an incredibly selfish and a very greedy SOB, which is super cool with me because I love Kenneth Landry so much just because of who he is😁.

Before you get the opportunity to hate me, and you will, (get the opportunity, I mean. The hating part is up to you😉), I will take you on a little weedful journey.

Things turned out pretty badly for Kenneth Landry. In fact, so badly that I don’t know if I am telling my story from Heaven (highly unlikely), from hell (more likely) or from some alley close to certain death (very likely).

Let me talk, and lie some😈, about the main reasons for my being a grade-A idiot. I like to blame all or most of my actions, beliefs, flaws and stupidity on Thomas and Brenda Landry, my parents😏. The fault for me being who I am falls on them for two reasons. One it MIGHT be their fault, and two blaming them is much easier than accepting that I am screwed up because it feels so good to be screwed up😃.

And before anyone gets all holy and starts pointing fingers, let me set the record straight. My parents were not bad people, and I absolutely had a blast being raised by a couple who were so different from those TV parents😆. The fact that since first grade I got up, got dressed and went to school while my parents slept would cause quite a few frowns on faces of some parents and even more ‘you poor little boy’ reactions. But how many of their kids every morning had a twenty on a table by the door for lunch and whatever😃? Like most normal kids twenty bucks before going to school beats the heck out of a bowl of cereal, bacon, eggs and a kiss on the head😉.

Let me go a little off topic here. For you kids out there, here’s a valuable tip. You can always tell just how much your parents TRUST you by the medicines that they buy for you. If Mommy and Daddy buy those fruity flavored meds that are easy to take, they really TRUST you. If they buy those meds that they have to tie you down to get you to take, they really don’t TRUST you because they know as soon as possible, you’re going to get those fruity flavors and play doctor😅. My meds always tasted like they were trying to poison me instead of getting me better😣.

Now to continue my tale, there was only one time when I was really angry😠 at my parents and of course it involved a doctor. When I was five and afraid of everything, my folks took me to get measles shot. The entire way to the doctor’s office, I cried and told them that I wanted my measles😭. When we got to the doctor’s office, my old man and the dumb doctor thought that it would be funny to show me a giant needle😭 which caused me to make a run for it and escaped all the way to the parking lot before Mom and Dad were able to catch me, drag me back to the doctor, hold me down and let that strange man stab me in the thigh with a small but painful needle💉. If it wasn’t for the cake and ice cream😋 afterwards, I probably would never had spoken to them again.

One thing inherited from my folks that is still a major part of me being stupid is my distrust of all religions. My parents didn’t ever say they were nonbelievers. In fact, I think that they were actually believers because of the frequent use of God’s name when they did something, wanted something or liked something very much, usually something that God wouldn’t have approved of😈:

My God! Oh my God! Dear God! OMG! Oh Lord!

were normal everyday parts of their vocabulary along with an assortment of creative cuss words, which were often combined with religious words for emphasis😄.

My folks NEVER, went to church, read a Bible, prayed or financially supported a church or any charity, but didn’t mind benefiting from one😃. If there was a free give-away, the Landry’s were in line or cutting line. Actually, I would stand in line while they slept in the car until I got close to the free stuff. To the uninformed this may seem like a cruel thing for two adults to snooze in a comfortable car while their little boy stood in the cold, rain or snow to secure freebies for the family, but for a kid standing in line with snacks and the latest video game it was more than a fair exchange😄.

Whenever I was dumb enough to ask why we didn’t go to church, my dad would say

because we are good people. The people who go to church have done bad things and need to go to God’s house to ask Him to forgive them, just like going to the principal’s office in school.

My mom would smile, pat my head, wink her approval of the bull crap and then they would go and do their things😜, not giving a second thought to what they had just done to their only child😡. But I was cool with it because while my friends had to get up early on Sunday mornings for Sunday school and church, I was lying in bed eating snacks, watching TV, playing video games and thanking God that my parents were good people who didn’t have to go to church😁.

Another thing that I like to blame or thank my parents for are