I then went to the medical center where I've gotten all my previous mammograms done, so I could get the films to take with me when I go for my next one this Friday (this is all part of the required liver transplant pre-screening). When I got there, all I found was a temp at the desk who was very sorry she couldn't help me, and perhaps I'd be better off going to the doctor I was seeing when I got them to get the information.
*sigh* I should have been able to check them out myself, but if that's the way the game is played, I'll follow the rules. I drove three miles down the road to my (ex)gynocologist's office. I explained to the far more competent desk staff there that I had been told on short notice that I needed to get a new mammogram for my transplant evaluation (thus working up a good head of sympathy) and then told them that the center where my baselines were kept had referred me to their office to get them. The woman at the counter gave me an unhappy look, and told me that the center was busy refiling all their radiograph/mammogram folders, that everything was in disarray, and that there was no way they'd be able to find my file in the midst of all that mess. (?) She was obviously as disbelieving of the situation as I was. What she did do for me (which technically she shouldn't have) was photocopy my charts from my doctor's file there that had the written evaluations. That certainly won't stand in for my baseline films, but it's better than nothing, and certainly made me feel better about their office (though I'm probably still never going back there again). I can't wait until I hear what Dr. Liver has to say about this one tomorrow when I go see him.
Meanwhile, The Socialist's car woes continue to mount. He discovered late last week that the driver who rear-ended him had insurance that expired the day before the accident. The driver is also failing to pick up his phone when The Socialist's insurance company tries to call him. The Socialist's appreciation of my home state's denizens is at a new all-time low, and believe me, that's saying something.
On my way home from my doctor's appointment and medical errand today I stopped at a farm shop I used to frequent regularly and purchased a pumpkin, three ears of maize, and six gourds. The Socialist, for whatever reason, is fascinated by gourds. He loves the individuality in each one. It was fun giving him his bag - kinda like early Christmas.
Tonight we went out to Best Buy because he was looking for a particular CD. He found it, and while I was killing time waiting for him I found the boxed set of "I, Claudius". It was way too much money.
I'll take some time later and be ashamed of myself for purchasing it at a more convenient moment.