Mammograms, Dental Cards, and Friday Afternoons

I had a mammogram yesterday. I know TMI, but the check-in was rather delightful. I sat down and the receptionist asked me if it was OK to discuss my personal information out loud.  “Sure,” I said looking around the empty room.  “You’d be surprised at how many people say ‘No’,” she whispered.  She asked for my driver’s license and insurance card. I handed them to her. She handed me back the insurance card.  “I think this is the wrong one.”  It was my dental insurance card.  As I was rifling through my purse to find my medical card she asked me to spell my first name, last name, and date of birth. I don’t actually know if she asked me to spell my date of birth I was still looking for the right card.  I must have looked up with a blank stare, because she smiled and repeated the instructions. After I passed the spelling/DOB test, I said, “Whew, now when you go home and tell your family about the crazy woman who gave you a dental card, you can at least tell them she could spell her name.” She laughed and we continued discussing my personal information.  She handed back my driver’s license saying “here’s your photo ID.”  I looked at her and said, “I can’t imagine anyone sneaking in here to have a mammogram for someone else.”  “You’d be surprise.” She paused, “but it isn’t like plastic surgery.”  Just then someone came in.  Now the waiting room had ears! She grinned and whispered the next question. Soon it was time to sign the permission to treat form.  Who knew? I kind of figured scheduling the appointment meant the same thing. Later as I was signing the privacy form, I reminded her it meant she couldn’t tell her family the name of the crazy lady who came in for a tooth removal.  By this time we were both laughing at everything. “Why are things so much funnier on Friday afternoons?” she asked.  Whew, she is blaming it on TGIF syndrome not crazy lady syndrome.  She finished up with my personal information.  I had a bit of a problem letting her know my new insurance—medical—kicked in September 2015, not September 15.  It might have been better if I spelled it.  “Do you want to schedule your next appointment?” I know it was a routine question, so she wasn’t planning to take a day off in say a year from now.  “No thanks.”  “I’ll take you back then.”

On the way out, she looked up at me and grinned. “Keep smiling!” I said.  She laughed. The people in the waiting room gave us a blank stare.  Maybe we should have whispered.

(Not So) Young Lady aka Finding Humor in an Intense Situation

The assisted living center called saying my mom needed to go to ER.  Her symptoms were similar to the ones that sent her to the hospital several weeks before.  Being almost 89 means a lot of trips to doctors and hospitals. The nurses at the center helped me get her into the car but I knew I would need help getting her into the hospital.  I left her in the car and told the receptionist I needed someone to help get her inside. She dialed a number and explained to the nurse that a young lady needed help getting her mother into the building.  I grinned and she winked.  When she hung up I told her, "This young lady turned 60 last week." She smiled saying, "We all need to stick together."  What a nice way to relieve the tension.  As for Mom, an IV bag, medication, and change in medication worked wonders. She was back to the assisted living center in time for bed.

Quickly Changing Attitudes

I noticed the boy and his father when they entered the restaurant. I mentioned to my husband that the boy looked so much like his dad, a person could pick the two of them out of a line up. Yes, officer those two are father and son.

The boy sat at a table next to us and was reading the table topper display about the restaurant donating five cents from every kid's meal to help fight childhood hunger.  When his dad sat down, the boy shoved the display towards him and said, "We need to eat here more often.  Read this!"  

"Wow, what a compassionate kid." I thought.

Dad glanced at the information and shoved it aside. 

"Must have gotten that compassion from mom," the teacher in me wanted to shout at him,  "Wake up! You have an incredible kid here." I know, none of my business, but kids are my business and this one was displaying something I rarely see.

Then, as often happens with first impressions, I learned snap judgments are just that--a snapshot. My take on the situation was not complete--a small window in time that didn't tell the whole story.

The father leaned closer to the boy, asked him how he was doing, and then said he needed to apologize. Whoa! What I took as indifference was really preoccupation.  Here was a dad ready to apologize to his son. That is something else I rarely see.

You're doing a great job Dad!  I should have stopped to tell you on the way out but you where engrossed in a conversation with your son.