TheBanyanTree: It's been a <insert adjective> day.

[Stew Young]

It was 105 here today. (Un)fortunately I spent most of it in an air
conditioned medical building.

So, my appointment for my CT Scan was at 2pm. And they said to show up 15
minutes early or so for registration. So me, being a typical Young, arrive
about 20 minutes early.

And registration was a breeze. They already had me on file, and they were
expecting me, so registration consisted of something like:

Me: Stewart Young, 2 o clock CT scan.
Them: Have you run your Medi-Cal card in our system yet this month?
Me: I was here last week. So... oh...maybe not in July yet, huh?
Them: Let me see your Medi-Cal card.
I open my wallet and hand it to them. They swipe it through a credit card
processing like machine. She hands it back, and hands me the paperwork.
Them: You know where radiology is?
Me: Is it right behind me, in the room that says "Radiology"?
Them: Yes, that's it.
Me: I think I can handle that.

So I walk the 10 feet or so to the room that says, "Radiology" and hand my
paperwork to the receptionist. She says, "Thanks. Have a seat. They'll be
right with you."

Apparently their definition of "right with you" and my definition of "right
with you" aren't crossing paths today because it was 2:30 before anybody
called me back.

But in the meantime, I got to hear all types of things.

Receptionist #1 to Receptionist #2: What kind of shoes are those?
Receptionist #2: <muffled>
Receptionist #1: They're cute... what size are they?
Receptionist #2: Nine and a half.
Receptionist #1: OMG! Your feet aren't that big are they?
Receptionist #2: silence. (I can see through the window they are comparing
foot sizes)
Receptionist #1: Wow. And I thought I had big feet.
Receptionist #2: How big are yours?
Recpetionist #1: I usually wear an 8.5, but these are 9s.
Receptionist #2: Oh.
Receptionist #1 to Receptionist #3: Did you know that Molly's feet are size
9.5...oh, sorry, didn't know you are on the phone.
Receptionist #3: And we're scheduling a mammo for Mrs. Burns, on July 11th
at 11am.

Receptionist #3 had a lot of work to do. She was scheduling ultra sounds,
MRIs, CT scans, and X-rays for a large number of patients. She totally had
to miss the foot talk.

Then all was silent for awhile. Then the loudest cell phone ring I've ever
heard goes off. It's an elderly gentleman in the middle of the room. He
takes forever to answer it, the whole while the phone ringing like there's
no tomorrow.

Elderly gentleman: Hello.
Voice on other end of cell phone: (yes, he has the volume maxed out on his
cell phone, so the six of us in the waiting room can hear very clearly the
other side of the conversation.): Stanley Dookis?
Stanley: Yes.
Voice on other end of cell phone: Stanley, this is Rebecca from Tri State
Insurance.
Stanley: Yes.
Rebecca: I'm having a problem with one of the forms your wife...well... soon
to be ex wife... filled out.
Stanley: Yes.
Rebecca: Is she having some sort of.....problem?
Stanley: Well, she's not exactly in....well... yeah...she's having a few
problems.
Rebecca: I see. She's very upset about some of the misinformation we have.
Can I get you to come down some time and look at the forms and clear up some
of the misunderstanding.
Stanley: Yes. I can come down. Is tomorrow good?
Rebecca: Well, er, uhm.... Tomorrow's not the best... how about...
Stanley: I'm at the doctor's office right now... I can come down after my
appointment.
Rebecca: Oh, that's not going to work out either. I'm leaving the office
shortly. And your soon to be ex wife is really upset at some of the
information that we have...well, rather, that we don't have. How about
Monday?
Stanely: Monday at 9?
Rebecca: Give me til 9:15.
Stanley: Okay 9:15 Monday. Yeah... she's going through some stuff right now.

At this point, Stanley FINALLY gets up out of his chair and walks out of the
room. I'm not privy to the last 15 seconds of conversation.

Stanley comes back into the room and the receptionist (#2 I think) calls him
over.

Receptionist: How do you pronounce your last name?
Stanley: What?
Receptionist: How do you pronounce your last name?
Stanley: What?
Receptionist: Your last name?
Stanley: I'm sorry, I'm not hearing you very well.
Receptionist: YOUR LAST NAME?
Stanley:  Milgenthorpe
Receptionist: Milgenthorpe?
Stanley: That's right.
Receptionist: Okay, Mr. Milgenthorpe, Mike's not back there yet. He's not
answering his phone. So just have a seat.
Stanley: I'm here to see Mike.
Receptionist: Right. Mike's not here yet. It'll be a little while.
Stanley: Oh, Okay.

And Stanley proceeds to try the enter the forbidden area that Mike will come
out from, but the locked door stymies him.

Fortunately for Stanley, his "a little while" is quicker than my "a little
while" and Mike comes and retrieves him before too long.

After a few more minutes, a blonde perky lady opens the door to the
forbidden area and says my name. I'm in her face quicker than you can say
"Go." She leads me down a hallway, and then makes me sit -- in another
waiting area.

Blonde Perky Lady: It'll be just a little while.

Of course. So, there's a Fortune magazine from three months ago and I leaf
through it. Nothing of interest. Except the tale of a lady who worked for
Enron. A few years before Enron went belly up she was in competition with
Skilling for Skilling's job. She lost the battle, so they made her an
executive of a subsidiary that oversaw water rights in Bangladesh or some
such nonsense. The subsidiary didn't get off to a great start, so Ken Lay
pulled the plug on it, and offered this lady some other executive position
at Enron. She decided she had enough of Enron, so she cashed in her stock
options -- all $80 million worth -- and left. 6 months later, Enron finds
itself in the whole mess. She says she feels bad for all the "little" people
who got hurt. But apparently she doesn't feel that bad, because she took her
80 million bucks and started her own water rights company in India.

Soon a Brunette Perky Lady pops in. "Stewart. Hi. We need to see if you'll
fit on the machine."

Ouch. That hurts. That would just suck if I waited for the past 45 minutes
and then find out I'm too big for the machine. But at least she wanted to
check BEFORE she gave me the barium.

So I go lay on the machine. It's not even a tight fit. Granted, I wouldn't
want to be any bigger. But I go through the machine like...oh insert your
own cliche here.

So, she has me go back to the inner waiting room and says, "I'll be right
back with your barium."

I can't wait. I've been fasting since 7:30 this morning, and now it's about
3pm.

She comes back and hands me to glasses of this white thick milky mixture.

"You can drink it fast, or you can drink it slow. I'll be back to check on
you in 10 minutes."

By this time I've given up on the idea that anybody in this place can tell
time. So I drink my barium.

It's like a really bad berry flavored melted milk shake. Actually the first
few sips weren't half bad. Actually the first cupful wasn't too bad. But I
really had to choke down the second one.

I finished in record time. And then I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Perky Blonde Lady came by once and said, "It'll just be a little while
longer."

FINALLY they called me back to where the CT Scan machine was. I lay on it.
They put in IV in me and tell me it's the contrasting liquid. "It'll make
you feel warm. Actually you may have the sensation that you peed your pants,
but you didn't really. It'll just feel like you did."

GREAT! I love that feeling.

Of course the whole scanning thing only takes like 10 minutes. But we had to
wait for "a little while" in between a couple of scans because they wanted
the contrasting dye to surge through me a bit more.

Finally, around 4pm, I was able to leave. I went to the vending machine in
the lobby and got a Pepsi. And then I tried getting a candy bar, but the
stupid machine wouldn't take my dollar bill. I figured it was only an hour
till dinner, and the Pepsi would satisfy me till then.

And then I got home... ran to the bathroom...and all the Pepsi and all the
barium came up in several body rolling ralphs.

It's been a good day.


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