Bless Your Heart

Me, Interrupted

So yesterday morning I wake up after little to no sleep and shower and dress and go to the doctor for my one week follow up. To see how I’m doing with my new meds (I did go one whole day without crying!). I walk in and am in line digging out my insurance card when every frequent shopper card -and I have tons people because not a store in existence will let you shop without one- goes flying out of my wallet as if they all just sprouted wings. I didn’t even notice until 2 nice people bent down and started picking them up. So I joined in. Then the receptionist calls me over while I’ve got my arms full of loyalty and buy 3 tacos get one free type cards. I walk up and say

Hi I’m Shannon Blanketyblank and I have an appointment with Dr. Newman (names of the innocent have been changed).

Receptionist: Sure thing. clackety clack on the computer keyboard. Your appointment is today?

Me: Yes.

R: What time? clackety clack

Me: 9 am. Sorry I’m a little late I spent the last few minutes retreiving the contents of my purse from your lobby.

*Now is a good time to tell you that this entire time my right eye has been tearing and winking at this poor lady because I got excema cream in it while getting ready to go to the doctor’s office. Yep, excema and I can’t get pregnant. I know you’re jealous.

R: Who made this appointment for you? clackety clack

Me: I was here last Tuesday and I saw June Smith (nurse practicioner) and she told me to come back in a week at 9 am. Today. Now.

R: It seems that we have in our system that you saw June Smith on Wednesday and she made your appointment for Friday at 9. clackety clack

Me: Nooo. Ok look let me get the little card she gave me.

I now proceed to empty my purse on her counter trying to find the card that must have fallen out with the rest. I’m still winking and wiping away tears from my stinging eye that doesn’t have excema but is still being punished with Elidel cream.

Me: (all triumphant with big grin) Here! Look! The card! Today! 9am!

I thrust the card at her with the appointment written big as day on the side facing her. She turns the card around so I can see it and says:

See, that’s for the 8th. Friday. 8. Today is Tuesday the 5th. 5. Now I want you to write FRIDAY on the bottom of the card ok?

Me: big heavy sigh.

Other receptionist who is obviously holding in a smirk because she was listening in: We can get you in to see Dr. Newman tomorrow at 11.

Me: I can’t come tomorrow morning. I’m getting my hair done. I’m in a wedding next week.

Other receptionist who is now about to piss me off: OH! She said she’s getting her hair done. Hmmm.

Me: Look, I’ll just come back Friday.

1st Receptionist: THE EIGHTH.

Later that afternoon I come in from taking the pugs out to the back yard and see there is a message on the machine.

Shannon, this is Kindra, from Dr. Newman’s office. Just wanted to check in and make sure you’re ok. We heard about the, hm, incident this morning. And by the way, we moved up your appointment to 5pm tomorrow ok? THE SIXTH.

Apparently the entire medical community thinks I’m certifiably insane. My doctor agrees because he told me today, the sixth, at 5pm, that he doesn’t feel I’m ready to go back to work. He did say that I’m doing really well though and to stop being so hard on myself, that it is normal to feel this way, and that I’m responding well to the anxiety meds I’m on now. But I’m to stay out of work for another 2 weeks “to avoid any stressful situations”.

Dear Dr., the only people stressing me out right now work for you.