Receptionists and Raccoons

I've been following up on the hushed-tones somber appointment from a while back. It had been suggested that I call the ENT's office as the treatment plan might need modification. Upon calling the ENT's office, one would have thought I was trying to sell aluminum siding. I convinced the young unfriendly that as a surgical patient I was indeed worthy of leaving a message for the doctor.

I was prematurely assured when the nurse called the next day. Yep, the doc wanted me to have a needle biopsy with a specific radiologist prior to my scheduled surgery and they would take care of arranging that. Sweet, we're on track I thought. Somehow many phone calls later, I was in charge of this scheduling task with the Radiology department at the hospital. How'd that happen -- when did I let my guard down?

My phone call to the Radiology department was long and complicated with disconnections and menu confusion. When requesting assistance from the receptionist, she behaved as if I was attempting to sneak into the Fair without paying. She was really ticked off when I called back after being disconnected after ten minutes on hold (she was upset?). I ended up with an appointment after my surgery date. I took it just in case.

After this phone call, I just stared at the full page of notes documenting each of many, many phone calls over days and I still didn't have the right things scheduled for this whole maybe cancer and prep for surgery thing. Disappointed isn't the right word for how I felt. And, most of these phone calls were navigated from the phone booth at work. I needed to return to job-related dilemmas.

I conveyed the state of disorder in these appointments and scheduling attempts to the doc's office and received more promises of checking with the doc and getting back to me -- similar to those uttered several times previously. Exhausted and more than angry, I let it sit for a while. I had attempted to be very assertive all along the way. It clearly wasn't working. I decided to dust off the bitch boots and let it rip. I did. In one day my pre-surgery appointments were straightened out for me and I was the recipient of repeated apologies.

This makes me sad. I'm sick, and worried about my future. I don't have extra energy to spare. And, I really don't want to be channeling this kind of energy. It reminds me of babysitting children who are accustomed to parents yelling at them -- it takes a lot to get them to pay attention.

************************

Yesterday my pal Diane and I walked to the creek where the salmon are spawning, and dying. A wickedly fat raccoon that appeared capable of hauling off small children waddled down to the creek. He bypassed one dead salmon and headed to another one on a rock bar in the middle of the creek. Ignoring the exposed meat, he ripped open the stomach and started raking for the eggs. Quite a sight -- we were lucky to see that.