I was a kid growing up in Chicago, I hated going to thedoctor. My pediatrician was a nice enough man. He alwaysseemed kind, and he would always tell me jokes. I didn't mindhis office, either. The receptionist was very friendly. Therewere plenty of magazines for kids lying around. And therewere even some toys to tinker with while I waited. But the one thing that really bothered me about him wasthat he lied. And the worst part about his lying was that hethought he was doing it for my own good. I know he lied toall my friends, as well.When I told them about the lies he toldme, they would say he told them the same thing. As a result,I developed a great mistrust of doctors. Of course, the biggest lie he told was when he would say,~This won't hurt, Charles!" and then proceed to give me apainful shot. He joked that he practiced his shots on grape-fruits--he even had a hypodermic needle sticking out of awooden replica of a grapefruit on his desk. But he only chuck-led when I reminded him that wooden things had no feelings. Granted, shots are not all that painful, but most kidsthink they are.And when a doctor tries to ease a child intoone by saying it won't hurt--and the child knows other-wise--well, it's not hard to figure out why a kid might hategoing to the doctor. Over the years, doctors have lied to me repeatedly. Some-