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Think You’re Late, But You’re Early, Then You’re Late

Posted by on March 2, 2009

Ahhh yes, that was me this morning. I was under the impression, from my calendar, that my appointment was at noon and that they wanted me at the office by eleven forty to do paperwork. But really the appointment was for one and they wanted me there by twelve forty. Chalk it up to grabbing the leaky pen to write with.

I called when I got in cell phone range at eleven thirty to tell them I was going to be late. I didn’t have the number with me so when I told the four one one non-human operator that I needed Group Health, Specialty Center, neurology department, it fried her little connections so I got sent to a real human. The real human took the information, sent me back to the fake human, who said that she could tell me the number or connect me. I chose the connect-me option.

I was being very careful and made sure that I was using speaker phone so I wouldn’t be in violation of the law. So it was no huge surprise that even the real operator heard me say urology instead of neurology. I had slight momentary panic when receptionist number one said I did not have an appointment today. But then she figured out the problem when she put in my magic number.

After all that, my phone rang just before the driveway into Starbucks and my daughter told me that they (the neurologist’s office) had called her to tell me that I had gotten the time wrong and I was in fact aiming to be an hour early.

Well that was all I needed to know, I pulled into the Starbucks which also happens to be where my second oldest daughter works. I had to pull in to see if she was at work and her car was not there. So I called Rebecca instead and asked her a theological question that occurred in my brain on the way into town listening to C. S. Lewis. (We’ll get to that in another post. Maybe. Do not hold me to that it was hard enough explaining my brain to Rebecca.)

Eventually, once we got the world’s theological problems solved, I needed to use the special room inside Starbucks. Imagine my surprise when I walked into my daughter changing the trash can liner just inside the door! Come to find out she drove her husband’s truck to work. New to them, new to me, totally missed it.

Well after I got a cheap drink and chatted with my girl a bit I was now officially cutting it very close! But they know people like me, that whole fill out paperwork is a rouse to get you before you need to be so that you are in fact on time, so really I was not two minutes late but thirteen minutes early. I’m trying not to rationalize but come on, that one is just plainly obvious.

Oh I bet Dear Reader, if you have hung in there this long and haven’t snuck out the back door by now, that you want to know what the heck I went to the neurologist for. Remember the electrocution day I had this summer?

I won’t make you go all the way back there, this is what I said then about the EMG test that they did to make sure that I indeed had numb toes:

9:00 The electric day really begins now with electromyography, not unlike tripping over the electric fence while wearing the dog’s training collar while the dog is standing on the switch and then landing into a pile of thistles. Good news is I’m not crazy, the test shows that I have valid reason to think my toes feel numb because of the bad news that I have peripheral neuropathy. So step one is done, now for step two, hopefully finding out what is causing it, there are a slew of causes, and getting it stopped or better yet, reversed. (July 23, 2008).

Ya, ya, I am just now getting to step two: figure out why the toes are numb.

Even though the test said my toes were numb we still had to have today’s doctor poke, tickle and smack me so she could see for herself. I think this is what I get for lying about being sick when I wasn’t back when I was a kid. She is a real know it for herself type person because a couple of things she is having my blood tested for have already been done. I always wanted to be on an episode of House!

So we had a lovely long talk about how there are a great many things that cause peripheral neuropathy. And even though my regular doc ruled out diabetes already, this doc wants to make sure. I get to eat more carbs than even I want to for the next three days. Then I go in for a blood draw, sit in their office for an hour, drink something nasty I am sure, get a blood draw, wait another hour and get another blood draw. This is going to be Lanny fun week! Well except for the last part, but it is worth it, cuz there is cake on my list of things to eat at least ten of! Woo Hoo! Prescribed cake. That is just too good to be true!

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