Today I had to return to the hospital for a CAT scan of my lungs, to see if those persnickety blood clots are dissolving as they should. I took Mom upstairs for her facial de-lesioning, then parked my rumpus on a chair in radiology to await my test. I signed in--new policy alert! Instead of a list on a clipboard for all to see, including name and doctor and time, the hospital now has a flap of privacy covering the list, ordering you to sign only your last name. I guess it's a step in the right direction.
In no time, I was called up to the intake cubicle to provide my vital financial information. Yes. It involved handing over my beautiful likeness on my driver's license. I'm surprised they did not keep their own copy to frame and hang as a Mona Lisa portrait to brighten their department. After several signatures on that little electronic thingy, the last of which I actually got to appear legibly, on the line, I was free to go sit some more and wait my turn for the magnetic donut.
I had popped my anti-anxiety pill just before going to the cubicle. It works for about 45 minutes. Good thing I gave it a trial run, since the doctor had told me to take it one hour before. Pshaw! That would have left me with all my tender nerves tingling at the time I most needed sedation. I took sips of 7-UP while waiting. I checked my cell phone every three minutes, since there is no giant clock on the wall in radiology.
And then it happened. Apparently, in one of my 7-UP-sipping frenzies, I got a little drop on my finger. Because my cell phone had a sticky spot near the bottom. Right where I need to drag that little bar to unlock it. Right over the icon for email. You see where this is going, don't you?
I licked my finger and scrubbed that sticky smudge off my phone. I LICKED MY FINGER! My finger that had touched the pen at the sign-in paper, and my finger that had touched the fake pen on that electric signer, and my finger that had touched the entire electronic signer to pull it across the desk towards me. SICK PEOPLE GO TO THE HOSPITAL! I felt worse than Lucy Van Pelt after she was kissed by dog lips.
PTOOEY! I wanted to spit. And to rinse my mouth with bleach.
I blame the lengthy wait and subsequent time-checking on those barium drinkers. I know they were ahead of me. They had not even started sipping when my 10:30 appointment time rolled around.
What that hospital needs is more magnetic donuts.