There are only a few days to go before Christmas and Santa is beginning to feel the pressure of his seasonal vocation. So, he decides to pay a visit to his doctor, who he hasn’t seen since he was a young boy. “My oath,” he mumbles to himself as he pulls up in front of the doctor’s magnificent house in his sleigh, “Doc’s doing well for himself, isn’t he?”
Then he addresses a gatekeeper standing in front of some very fancy gates indeed.
“Hullo mate! Is the doctor in today? I haven’t got an appointment but I really need to see him.”
“G’day Mr. Claus,” the gatekeeper answers, “my name is Peter. We’ve been expecting you,” and opens the massive pearly gates for Santa to glide through.
Santa looks puzzled. ‘How does this bloke even know my name?’ he wonders for a moment.
“On ya Pete,” he answers, and then shouts to Rudolph: “Come on Rudy, let’s get a move on!”
The reindeer obeys Santa, and along with the other reindeer he pulls Santa and his sleigh to the doctor’s practice at the side of the house.
“This is a beaut little setup you’ve got here, Doc, and that gatekeeper of yours is an angel, letting me in like that,” Santa says once seated opposite the doctor at his desk. “Can’t remember the place looking like this when I came here as a kid.”
“Well, what can I say, Nick?” the doctor replies. “Life’s been really kind to me. But tell me, what can I do ya for?”
“It’s all this hard yakka for Christmas. It’s done me back in. To make things worse, the binging at all these Christmas parties I’ve been invited to has given me the mother of all hangovers. I’ve got a splitting headache and my mouth tastes like the bottom of my cockatoo’s cage.”
“Hmm, you know what you need, don’t you?”
“You need rest and relaxation.”
“What, now? With Christmas coming up and all those kids waiting for their pressies?”
Santa just sits there gawking in amazement as the doctor continues giving his advice.
“Some fresh air and a lot of rest will do you a world of good, Nick. You can start right away by taking the arvo off. Send the reindeer on ahead with your sleigh and walk home through the lovely countryside for a change. That’s fresh air for you. Here, take a butcher’s at these,” the doctor says and slides two CDs over his desk towards Santa. “This music was composed a while back by two mates of mine: Johnno and Paco. Cop an earful of that and you’ll be right as rain before you can say ‘eggnog’.”
“You’re ‘avin’ me on, right?” says Santa as he leans forward to inspect the CDs.
“Dead serious, mate. And while we’re on the subject of booze, I can recommend this,” the doctor replies while handing Santa a bottle of V.S.O.P. Now, when you arrive home, I want you to snuggle up in front of the fire, put on one of those CDs I’ve just given you and very slowly drink the brandy. From a glass, mind you. I’ve seen you down at your local rubbidy with yer mates, chucking back coldies like they’ll be going out of fashion. You need to actually enjoy what you’re drinking or eating, or whatever else you’re doing, really. Take it slow, have a nap once in a while and get some exercise. Go for a walk once a week, preferably every day.”
While the doctor is busy talking, Santa is already picturing himself taking the advice.
“And another thing, go easy on yourself. If you want to go off your nut, then do so, as long as you remember to rest afterwards. Just look after yourself properly.”
“Ah, ta Doc. Coming to you is probably the best thing I’ve done in donkey’s. I’m going to get on it straight away.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Nick.”
So, the doctor lets Santa out.
“Okay then. Send Mrs. C my best. And, before I forget, talk to yourself more. Like you did when you were a kid.”
“You used to talk out loud a lot, and in that way you talked to me so I could give you advice and reassure you.”
“Oh, alright then. Thanks very much for everything, I really appreciate it. Have a great Christmas and a ripper New Year.”
“Thank you, Nick. A Merry Christmas to you too and stay out of mischief next year. You don’t want to get booted out of your local again, do you?”
Santa frowns, not understanding what the doctor’s on about, but decides to leave it at that.
“Here, have an icey pole,” he replies after rummaging in his esky. “Mind you don’t get your tongue stuck on it, Doc” he chuckles.
The doctor gratefully accepts Santa’s little present. He then waves as Santa walks off down the drive and disappears into the distance.
I wish you a Merry Christmas and a fun-filled New Year with plenty of rest. Have a good one. And may your God – I mean doctor – be with you. I’ll leave you with the doctor’s music prescription. Have some fresh air and a good blast, and everything ’ll be apples.
Johan Sebastian Bach – Air
Pachelbel – Canon in D
‘Santa Claus’ by Marcelo Graciano on Freeimages.com
‘Winter Wonderland’ by John De Boer on Freeimages.com
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