Friday, October 16, 2009

Trying to Find the Good

I was already apprehensive about having lab work done today: what if I can't pee? What if I faint when they take my blood? (it's happened) And worse still: how do I survive the 12 hour fast?! No coffee?! (My fast was not going to include cigarettes because I reasoned the lack of them would only skew my "score.")

So when I arrived at the lab and stood behind the only person in line for the receptionist, let's face it, I was looking for a problem. A woman came through the door and was instructed to take a number. "I'm here too!" I said, leaning in. I was told to take a number too. Now wouldn't you think the woman who just took a number would have given me hers? She didn't. I sat there grumbling to myself and tried to find the good. Maybe the woman was there for a real sickness, not for standard tests, like I was.

When it was my turn to speak to the receptionist (10 minutes after the woman with my number had gone in), I was still not finding the good. Maybe the receptionist picked up on it and felt the need to do battle. Or maybe she was just spawned from the shadows of hell...Either way, she was down on me from the start. Everything from "'standing order every year' doesn't tell me the frequency" to "you'll have to come back tomorrow for this other test because it's for a different doctor." I was jamming paperwork back into my purse, trying REALLY HARD to find the good, but it just wasn't coming.

Then along came Ingrid. Sweet Ingrid with the blood-letting equipment. She had this soothing, horse-whisperer tone and she quickly and effortlessly smoothed things over. She even did the tests for the other doctor and listened consolingly to the story of the number-stealing-woman. Where did this woman come from and how was she able to turn the negative into the positive so easily?

I mused about this on the way home, as another woman drove into my lane and threatened to hit me head on. "Why, she must be late for something, God bless her little heart" I murmured, as I slammed on the brakes and honked my horn. Nope, it wasn't working. I'm no Ingrid. But I'll keep trying. The good news part of the day? I didn't have to pee into into a cup! (Maybe they just didn't want to have to take that on too.)

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