The Saga Continues

Yes, the drama continues. Thursday, I went back for my post-
surgery visit, and told the doctor I would need a note for work.
"Sure," he said. "What days do you need?" I told him Oct. 31
to Nov. 4, to return to work Monday, Nov. 7. He said,
"We'll get that ready for you."

Bear in mind that I was the ONLY patient in the office. My
appointment was for 3:30, I got there at 3:10, and they called
me in at 3:15. I got dressed, waited, waited some more, and
the nurse came in with the note. "Did you want excused for
Monday, or return to work Monday?" I told her "return," and
she said, "Good. That's what I put." She handed me the note,
I stuffed it in my purse, and left the building.

Friday morning, I took the boys to school, then stopped by
my Hillbilly Mama's house for some more Chex Mix. She
brought it out to the car, and stood in the driveway, leaning
in the passenger door of my large SUV to make small
talk. "So, are you ready to go back on Monday?" I told her,
"Yeah. I hope I didn't lose that note." I dug through my purse
and held it up. "Here it is." I looked at it to make sure they
had the dates right. "Suburban Gal ?!" Not only did they
give me the wrong dates of Nov. 3-Nov. 4, they gave me
the wrong person's excuse!!!

My HM started laughing her fool head off. Tears streamed
out of her eyes. "I hope he didn't give you Surburban Gal's
diagnosis!" she choked out. Umm...thanks, Mom. As if this
hasn't been stressful enough, now I have to worry about
whether everything's OK like the doctor told me. Now I
will always have that little bit of doubt.

I called the office when it opened, and explained my problem.
"Oh, my," said the receptionist. "What dates do you need? Can
I fax it somewhere for you?" Uh...no. Have you ever faxed
anything to a school? Sometimes a student picks it up. Sometimes
it gets put in a basket and covered with other papers. Sometimes
it even gets taken to the right building. Every so often it actually
gets to the person it is addressed to, and they go "What's this?"
I told her I'd come pick it up.

"Do you close for lunch?"
"Uh...I'll be here...12:30 to 1:00"
"You'll be there from 12:30 to 1:00?"
"No. We'll be closed from 12:30 to 1:00."
"All right. I'll come over after 1:00."

That was 50 miles round trip, 1 hour and 20 minutes out of
my day. (No highway miles for my gas-guzzler!) No pain meds
because I'd be driving. Good thing, because the MO Highway
Patrol had a 3-car roadblock on my route. I have no idea what
they were doing. They had the oncoming lane stopped when I
went through, and on the way back, all 3 officers were standing
around talking.

The receptionist handed me the excuse and said, "Check it
before you leave." Like I should have checked it Thursday.
Well, excuuuuuuse me! I was the only patient in the office. I
would have thought that the excuse the nurse handed me would
have had my name on it! At least she called my right name when
she called me into the exam room. I told the receptionist, "As
long as I got MY diagnosis." She kind of laughed. I guess that
meant I did. Or else that they'd messed up royally again.

I figure if there's something really wrong with me, the other
lady will be called in for treatment, and will say, "Hey, I'm
not Hillbilly Mom!" That way they'll catch the error.