Last week, Jeremy and I (and two squirrelly boys) went to the not-very-local doctor's office here to get adoption physicals. They were extensive and expensive, and the fact that I rhymed that amuses me, which shows you how tired I am tonight. Anyway, the office is a good 45 minutes away, but it is near our social worker's house. (It's the only one around that we've found that will do adoption physicals.) Bear with me; there is a point to this story.
So we went in on Wednesday for the physicals. An hour and a half drive, total. Went back on Friday, to get the TB tests read. Another hour and a half. We had planned on picking up the forms then, but one of my blood tests wasn't in yet. No problem; we're headed back up there next Wednesday for our last meeting with the social worker at her house (the next one's at our house). We'll pick them up before we see her, hit a kinko's to make a copy for her, and deliver them to her. Easy.
Well, I got a call today. The lab lost my blood. Yes, friends, they lost my blood. That's slightly disturbing to me. How can you lose a vial of blood? Did the doctor get interrupted by a sudden urge for a cup of coffee and leave it in the break room? Did someone accidently drop it and let it roll under the couch? Where is it??
So I have to go back in tomorrow, while Jeremy is doing his half of the meeting with the social worker, and give more blood, while my two squirrelly boys spin around on the stool or sit on the funny "couch" covered in paper. And then we have to wait longer to get the results (I could just tell them that I KNOW I don't have the particular disease they are testing for), and then we'll have to go down there AGAIN (an hour and a half drive, may I remind you), to pick the forms up so we can give them to our social worker when she comes to our house, even though she'll pass right by it on her way. Making this whole adoption physical goose-chase a four-and-a-half hour long ordeal, drive time only, not counting the three times of sitting in the waiting room!
But, said the receptionist who called me, they won't make me pay for this visit. Darn right! You lost my blood, for goodness' sake!
Iain heard me telling Jeremy about this and asked how they lost it. "It's in your body, Mama." At least someone knows where it is!
Edited to add: Jeremy said this post sounded ticked off. I'm not; just rolling-my-eyes amused at the odd predicament we've found ourselves in.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I'd be ticked off. Doing things with small children takes extreme organizational skills. Having to REPEAT an activity unnecessarily is even worse!
Crazy! Just think of it as another labor pain. :) It'll all be worth it in a few months!!
Why not sound ticked off? As the passionate Italian side of me can tell you, vociferousness (I think that's the right SAT word)is the best way to prevent ulcers. And, ask any author...writing down such things is instatly cathartic!
Post a Comment