Doubting my sanity I could almost hear Rod Serling speaking a voice over while the theme song from The Twilight Zone played in the background during my recent routine follow-up appointment
with my Hematologist...
MD: “Why didn’t you have your labs drawn?”
Me: “I did have the labs drawn.” She and her nurse looked at me as if they thought I am delusional enough to believe I could lie to them and get away with it. I reminded them my insurance requires me to use Quest labs, or the insurance refuses to pay. Then I reminded them I asked them to FAX the lab orders to the Killeen Quest location--which until recently was the closest--even thought it's 45 miles away. The looks of disbelief remained, on their faces, so I started scrolling the calendar on my 'droid for a confirmatory appointment, as I continued to remind them, “Remember, I initially had you FAX the lab request to the Killeen
lab center but when I looked them up on the internet so I could call them to make sure they received the orders, I found out Quest now has a new lab center here in town. So I asked you to reFAX the orders to the Temple location." You would think, they would remember two requests for the same thing.
Nurse: “Quest? Here? In Temple? Where is it located?”
Me: "Right across the street. At Quiznos.” I realized I sounded crazy when their looks of dubiousness turned to outright skepticism. Who gets their labs drawn at a sandwhich shop? Yet again the 'droid let me down. The absence of an appointment on its calendar didn't help my cause. "It's not really in Quiznos--it's in the Quiznos strip mall--next to Papa Marans--the take and bake at home pizza." So now I really sound like a moron. Because "Papa Marans" actually Papa Murphys. And now, a week later as I edit this, I realize my moronship is confirmed--Quest is between Papa Murphys and Schlotzk's.
Nurse: “I’ll see what I can find out.” She looked pointedly at my hematologist before she left. I didn't see her eye roll or finger twirls. But I felt them.
Me: “I even wrote down the tests so I would know if they drew everything.” They frequently leave something off the list—including my iron levels—which
is the entire reason for the doctor visit.
Nurse: “They said they never drew your blood.” She stated as she reentered the room. And shared yet another “look” with the doctor.
Me: “They did too! I promise they did! The Lab Tech was a girl, and she was very good. My veins are shy sometimes and like to play hide-n-seek, but
she found an outgoing vein on the first try. Quest has only been in the Temple location since December. There were no other people in the waiting room. In fact, the Lab Tech was the only other person in the office. I only had three time slots from which to choose
when I made the appointment, so I thought it would be busier—like it was in Killeen.” I continued my impression of a brook: babbling. “The sign on the door between the lab and the waiting area read, " 'Remember: Do NOT lock the door when you leave—It's NO fun
crawling through the window if you get locked out of the lab!' " I could hear the frantic timber of my voice and even I started to doubt myself. I will check my Sick Leave Requests at work and get the exact time and date, I thought before inspiriation hit,
“I wonder if the Lab Tech or the Clerk at the Irving Processing Center sent my results to your Killeen office? The Lab Tech was confused when I told her my appointment with you is here in Temple. Maybe the the processing Clerk pulled up your name and only saw your Killeen office. Maybe one of them sent the results to your office in Killeen.” Like a drowning man I grasped for a lifebuoy.
MD: “Now that’s a thought. I’ll ask my nurse to check.”
I'm still not sure if she believed it plausable, or if she just sawba way to escspe the room with Lady Loco. While she went to talk to her nurse, I Googled Quest and started scrolling through the locations—and could not find one in Temple. What if the
new office was a front for some nefarious blood stealing ring. Or worse—a figment of my imagination. After all, everything was new. There were no other people in the waiting room. There were no other staff members to unlock the door between the waiting area
and the lab if anyone locked themselves out. Is this the start of Alzheimer’s? Or...am I living in an alternate reality?
Doo-doo-do-do.
MD: Popping her head in the doorway, “Do you mind if I see my next appointment while my nurse calls the Killeen office to check? Or would you rather
reschedule?”
Me: “I can wait. We need to make today’s visit a productive one.”
MD: “I agree.”
In the meantime, the Nurse finally called the TEMPLE location and they Faxed her the lab results—which she left on the examroom desk. In plain sight. I snuck a peek while I
awaited the return of my hematologist. My labs did exist. And they were all excellent.
MD: “Our phone notes indicate your lab request did in fact go to two different labs—one in Killeen, and one on the morning of the lab draw: to Quest,
right here in Temple.”
Me: “Yep. Your Nurse brought them in. They are right here on your keyboard.” And then, because I do not seem to have the ability to not confess, I confessed: “I have reviewed
them. They look good.”
She agreed.
Alzheimer’s remains at bay. And I am gratified to have confirmation that I continue to be a sane resident of this dimension—the Rod Serling voice-over
and The Twilight Zone Theme Song are once again silenced…at least for the time being...
Doo-doo-do-do.
Doo-doo-do-do.
