Less to Clean Up

Oh what a day it was. Or wasn’t, if you prefer. My appointment with Dr. A having already been pushed to next week, I was able to sleep in a little bit later than originally planned before arising to go to Dr. D’s office. Dr. D is my primary physician, and I like her well enough that I am happily willing to travel over an hour to get to her office. Since the travel was during rush hour this morning, it took well over an hour. By the time I’d gotten there, the morning dose of Lassix had come close to causing my bladder to explode. I have now found a good use for McDonald’s. They do have nice clean bathrooms.

I was there nearly 20 minutes early, and was surprised when they took me in for the bloodwork part of my adventure right away. This surprised and gratified me. It gave me hope that I’d actually be out of there early, with time to meander home and perhaps find a couple of fall hanging flower baskets for outside my door. That was not to be, however.

After nearly an hour and a half of waiting, I was just getting ready to get up and inquire as to what the problem was at the front desk. The couple sitting across from me beat me to the punch though, and I happily eavesdropped on them to discover that Dr. D was running behind, but that they’d be called shortly now. Their appointment was for 15 minutes after mine, so I figured I would be called imminently.

A half an hour later, the couple were called in. Muttering a quiet “huh?” to myself, I wandered over to the sign-in desk and asked what was up. And found that they didn’t have me down for an appointment to see Dr. D today.

grumble I know exactly what happened, too. When I was last there, I stopped at the desk on the way out to make an appointment to see the doctor. I asked if it were possible to schedule me to have some blood drawn at the same time. They wanted to know what tests the blood was to be drawn for. I told them it was in my file. They asked if I didn’t know. I said it was for a PT and I thought for a chem7, but to check my file. They said they didn’t need to check my file if I knew. I told them I didn’t know for sure, and check my file. You get the idea. Anyhow, after all that deep discourse concerning my bloodwork, the fools forgot to enter my doctor’s appointment into their accursed computer. So now I get to wait another week and see the good doctor next Friday instead, after I see Dr. A. So next Friday will essentially be a replay of what this Friday should have been.

Soon after I got home, I got a phone call from Dr. A. Her nurse had told her that I had assumed that there was something wrong with my marrow since she was presenting it at a meeting next week of marrow and cancer specialists, and she didn’t want me stewing about it so she wanted to give me more information. It turns out that while there is no apparent cancer in the marrow, the density of cells in the marrow is abnormally high. This *could* be a sign of something called polycythemia vera, which is a type of cancer. However, Dr. A and the pathologist who read the slides could find no abnormal mitotic figures (which are what the DNA looks like when a cell divides). If the mitotic figures were normal looking, then it is unlikely that it is cancer, but she just wants to run it by others to see what they think of it.

I appreciated her calling and bringing me up to date and told her so. I also told her that I wished I could be a fly on the wall at Wednesday’s meeting, because it sounded like it could be interesting. She asked if I really meant that, and I told her I did. She promised nothing, but she said she’d ask and see if I’d be allowed to sit in and maybe participate. Ah, the doors a veterinary degree opens. There’s a good chance they won’t permit it; I’m not sure how comfortable the other doctors there would be discussing a case in front of the patient. But I am grateful that she’d even try to get me in. I have been very lucky in the doctors I’ve got on my case.

Even if their office staff aren’t always up to snuff.

On the home front, The Socialist and I spoke for several hours last night about what happened on the 11th. He and I clearly come from different directions when it comes to what is appropriate at what time, but at least I think we understand each other better. Meanwhile, posting rights have been restored to both of us on the forum that he upset people on, so he can now go back in and have his discussion if he so wants. I’ve tried to warn him that his writings do not come across like he wants a discussion; they are written in an inflamatory manner that would better serve to start a flame war. And he did admit to me that he didn’t mind a little “rabble rousing”, but that he felt that was the only way sometimes to get a discussion going. After I attempted to explain the difference between discussion and argument with him, I gave up. He’ll learn, or others will teach him. He is not a stupid man, and is in fact a wonderful wordsmith in his own right. I have to believe that he’ll learn to temper himself eventually.

There’s a big airshow by my town this weekend. I’m hoping to go with The Socialist and my Friend of Twenty Cats, sixteen turtles, three dogs, a pigeon and a goose. I heard tonight that it may rain Sunday though. No matter. We can always find other things to do if that falls through. And I know The Socialist will be pleased if it’s rained out and he doesn’t have to get up before nine in the morning.