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Emily Morrison Emily Morrison
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These things happen

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Let me begin by telling you all straight out, I realize I'm whining. I know this is pathetic and petty and I'm supposed to have a shred of journalistic integrity or something. I figure, if I can't whine in my own column, than what's the point? So if you're not in the mood for a rant, just “peace out” sister brother mother friend. Go with my blessing because I've had a doozy of a day, and I'm about to unload.

Earlier this week I had an appointment to see my lady doctor. Thinking of myself like a family sedan, I decided that regularly scheduled tune-ups could go a long way to increase my longevity. It was a lovely thought. Unfortunately, when I arrived for my check-up, the secretary informed me she had been trying to reach me all day: “Your physician called in sick.”

Taken as a whole, this is no big deal (except that I drove 30 minutes to get there and I needed to have the procedure I came for done last month). Add to this frustration, this is the second time this has happened to me in this particular office. I was more than a little miffed, but I said, “Why didn't you call me at work?” It's a good question, folks. I wasn't whining. 

“That wasn't one of your two contact numbers. We only call two contact numbers,” she said. I guess if you work and don't have your cell phone on during the day, you're royally screwed when it comes to secretaries getting in touch with you. Life lesson number one: leave your work number as a primary contact in case the secretary doesn't feel like scrolling down your in-take sheet (that's whining). 

Fast forward to today: my mole check. As if lying naked on a table under a drop cloth while some stranger ogles my canvas isn't bad enough, I have to drive over an hour one way to be so ogled.  Directionally challenged, I had my husband set up the GPS so all I had to do when I climbed in was hit “Go.” Half way there I realize the car's running on empty, but I'm 10 minutes ahead of schedule and more concerned about disrobing than filling the tank.

As I pull out of the station, the GPS dies. Since my husband programmed it, I don't even know the address. As for my cell phone, it hasn't actually been turned off. I lost it over a month ago. A magnetic force field surrounds my body, and I repel all technology within my gravitational pull. So to recap, I've got no GPS, no cell phone and no clue where my doctor's office is. By some miracle I correctly identify the charger hanging from the screen and manage to locate the most recently found address: the mole man!

After four route recalculations and 20 more minutes I reach my destination 10 minutes late. Instead of one doctor's office, I find eight complexes with 100 different suites to choose from. Don't panic, I tell myself. Rely on sense memory. Let the car go where it remembers going. As corny as that sounds, it worked. Two wrong turns later, I found myself outside a locked glass door with the interior lights off. “Lord, I'm too late. NOOOO!”

In a last ditch attempt, I knock on the door. Surprisingly, a secretary bips out from behind a hidden window and asks if she can help me. I tell her I'm here for my appointment and she gives me a blank stare. “The doctor isn't seeing anyone this afternoon. You must not have an appointment.”

My mouth drops open, and I prepare to launch into full out whine mode. “WHAT?! The doctor isn't seeing anyone? Look, I just drove an hour and a half trying to find this place. I have an appointment.”

Don't you hate that placating smile people give you when they're afraid you're going to flip schnikes on them? Well, that's the smile she gave me. “Why don't we just check your file, dear?” she said. She walked through the deserted waiting room and around the counter to her seat. I could tell this would not end well.

“Oh, yes. You had an appointment two weeks ago. It looks like you rescheduled to...today! Well, what do you know? This new appointment wasn't put into the system. I apologize. Now, what time would you like to come in again?” Her placating smile stretched wider as she spoke. 

Ready, aim, fire: I had to juggle two other appointments just to get here (whining). I had to arrange child care for three children (more whining). I had to fit my run in during my lunch and skip a meal for this here mole man, and do you mean to tell me that I have to come back? (the ultimate whine)

Yep, that's what she meant to tell me. And that's not all, folks. She said, “Sometimes these things happen, and today, it just happened to you. Now when would you like to reschedule?”

Can you believe that - the “these things happen” line?! What do you say to that? I wanted to reschedule right around the time hell froze over, but I supposed that would be bad cancer karma. I took my little appointment card and headed out the door for some solid retail therapy at the mall. 

Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something. Maybe Mother Nature thinks I need to be less of a patient and more patient or something cryptic like that. Or maybe I'm just like everybody else and these things happen sometimes. 

I'll put that in the system (last whine).

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