Nobody Cheats Me Out of My Scan

A bit of chaos at the Doc’s today.
We did get scans done — and for now, I’m fine. No worse off than I was yesterday, so I’ll take that.

But man… after all the praise I’ve been throwing at this place lately, we really managed to poop the bed today.

My appointment was scheduled for 12:45 PM — a change from my usual early morning slot. The reason? My scan was at 2:00 PM in the same building, so I figured why make two trips? Ha. Turns out... two trips might’ve been the way to go.

I showed up my usual twenty minutes early and got checked in — or so I thought.
Turns out, instead of checking me in, the front desk marked me as a no-show. Of course, I didn’t know this, so I sat. And sat. And sat.

Forty-five minutes later — after watching half the damn room get called back before me — I finally went to ask what was going on, mentioning I had a scan coming up in 30 minutes.
Their response?
“I don’t know.”
Let me go find out.

Ten minutes later, I finally get called for labs. And while I’m sitting there, the lab techs are whispering to each other about what happened — and that’s when I find out I was marked as a no-show.

Glad they told me — because the front desk sure as hell didn’t.

Now I’m behind, the doctor’s already moved on to other patients, and there’s not even a room open for me. We’re ten minutes from scan time when a nurse practitioner pops in, clearly flustered and rushing.

She starts rattling off a few things, and I tell her, “Look, I’ve got a ton of questions, but I’ve got to leave for my scan.” She checks her laptop and says, “Your scan’s not until the 21st.”
I argue.
She shows me the screen.
I still argue. I know what call I got on Friday.

She tries to speed through my questions anyway and I hit her with the first one — she starts answering with, “Well, I think…”

I stopped her right there.

“Nope,” I said. “We’re done. I’ll reschedule this appointment. I’ve waited 18 damn weeks for this scan and I’m not about to miss it because someone here thinks they know what’s going on.”

She makes me an appointment for next Monday and I haul ass downstairs.
Guess what?
Scan was today. Just like I said.

I don’t give a single poop about anything else — but if they thought I wasn’t getting pushed through that machine, they were out of their minds.

I’ve earned that scan.
Nobody was taking it from me.
Not a “maybe,” not a “I think,” not even the nicest NP in the building.

Scan complete, I march right back upstairs to verify next week’s appointment. They tell me it’s with the same NP.
My response?
“I don’t THINK so.”
We got that fixed.

So yeah… chaotic day. But all is forgiven because I got my damn scan. Results come Monday.

Another week of anticipation.
And say or think what you want — the cigarettes stay another week.
I’m not putting my family through the stress of anticipating scan results and quitting at the same time. We’ll shoot for next Tuesday.

Aggravated but over it,
A Simple Man

P.S. — You guys would’ve been proud. Had all my questions typed out, pen in hand, ready to go like a pro. Of course, the day decided to go sideways anyway. Figures.