The receptionist at the address where I went telephoned the facility where I was supposed to go to, and I got directions. I couldn't believe it. It was almost in my front yard. Well, it took about maybe 10 minutes to get back to where I supposed to have been in the first place.
When I got to where I was supposed to be in the first place, I told the receptionist that the next time I was directed by my doctor to some testing place I had never been to before, I was going to call and make sure I had the right address--not the address printed on the form. She said she called me yesterday, but when I denied receiving a call, she said "maybe" she hadn't left a message. Huh!
Oh, the DEXA scan is something they do--a sort of xray--to find out if the bones are healthy.
Anyway, I made a left turn off the freeway, and after several blocks realized I was going the wrong way. So I turned around and ended up in barely moving traffic due to construction work on the road. Every few seconds I looked at my watch, belaboring my stupidity in not following the MAP, which I had studied before I left home.
As I said, the trip should have taken 20 minutes, I allowed 30 minutes (I hate being late to appointments), and took 50 minutes to get to where I wasn't supposed to be in the first place.
Hey, Deborah, does any of this sound familiar?
Shalom