Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2019

Just Sign These Papers, Please.

“Holy Broom Closet, Batman!”

I wasted a good portion of yesterday with Doctors, Nurses, and Technicians who spent two hours trying to put the toothpaste back in the tube…and I was the toothpaste.

I am not claustrophobic. I’ve been in some pretty tight spots in my life – literally and in a figurative sense so having a CT Scan is no big deal – except that it is a big deal. They don’t shoot people through that gizmo just for fun.

During my last visit to my Doctor’s office, just before taking off for Texas, his minions took about a quart of blood from my “Good” arm for testing and analysis. They never take blood from my “Bad” arm as if it wasn’t connected to the rest of my body. I think it is, but I can’t prove it.

They took my blood and that was it until later in the day when I got a phone call from “Amy Lou” at the Doctor’s Office.

“The results of your blood tests show an abnormality that concerns the Doctor.”

She said that my Adrenal Glands (I have two of them) were not producing enough of something neither of us could pronounce…and the Doctor wanted me to come in for a CT Scan of my innards right away. She didn’t use the word “innards”. She said something more professional sounding.

I told Amy Lou that, “We have a problem there. I am leaving town tonight for Texas and I’ll be gone for two weeks.”

That didn’t seem to bother her.

“OK, let’s set it up for when you get back!

Her “Right away” turned into “OK, let’s set it up…”

That “Right Away” appointment was yesterday. At 8:15 AM I walked through the hospital doors and spoke to one of the receptionists who checked my name off of her list and then told me to sit down and wait. After a few minutes another young lady (Who looked to be about 12 years old) came to fetch me. I spent ten minutes with her signing releases and other “It wasn’t our fault” papers. After that she escorted me through the hospital hallway maze to Radiology where another 7th grader asked me the same questions and had me sign more papers.

“Have a seat. It’ll be a few minutes.”

Eventually another young woman came to lead me through another maze to the room where “The Scanner Machine” was set up. I think I’ve seen one of those gizmos before. It was either in the old Sci-Fi movie “Logan’s Run” or at Jiffy Lube.

That Scanner was a big Mother of All Machines. With all of the machinery in that room the place sounded like a factory floor. I wondered when they were going to hand me a Hard Hat.

To make a long story short…

“You’re too late to do that, Bubba.”

I did the Scan. It was painless and pretty boring.

Later that afternoon my phone rang. It was Amy Lou. We were getting to know each other. She told me that my Scan indicated that everything was just peachy-keen with my Adrenal Glands.

OK

My question then is: Why did my blood test show that my glands were Missing in Action and that perhaps that was why all of my “Get up and go” got up and went.

And so the mystery continues.

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6 thoughts on “Just Sign These Papers, Please.

  1. Amazing how young they are these days, isn’t tt?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Glad things are peachy keen, John. I seem to be saying “S/he looks about twelve” more and more these days. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Happy that everything went okay. Makes you wonder if they said, “Our fancy machine hasn’t been used enough so lets make…(draws name from a hat)…this guy use it.”

    Liked by 1 person

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