Today was a day of many tasks for me. It started off with a trip to the vet for my poor cat Morganna. She and Katie had gone in a couple weeks ago for routine check-ups and teeth cleaning. At the same time, Morganna had a weird bump that had to be cut off. They had to shave half her neck to get to it, and it was both funny and sad to see. After some wild wrangling, I took her back to the vet today to get stitches removed and learned the bump was a type of tumor that could have been cancerous! Yikes. Fortunately, it's all removed, so Morganna is happy and well. Aside from, yanno, missing part of her fur. I don't think she knows it's gone, though. Don't tell. lolcatz doesn't even think I should post pics, for the sake of her dignity.
After that, it was off to my human doctor because my stomach's been bothering me. She asked me a bunch of questions, my favorite being "Have you traveled recently?" I rattled off the cities I'd been to in a 2-week span, but I guess she didn't consider Orlando and the West Coast in Third World Country territory. Mistake? Unclear. Nonetheless, she sent me across the street to get an X-Ray, something I didn't even know could be done on your stomach without swallowing something horrible first.
Let me tell you about these radiology people. They share an office and desk with a lab that does bloodwork. But, oh man, do not go to the wrong side of the desk. They're all quite huffy about it and will not check in the other's patients, despite having the same computer system. The radiology people were naturally backed up, and the bloodwork people were all reading books. I think the backup was due to how painstakingly slow the check-in was. Considering my college job was in a health clinic, I really wanted to jump behind the desk and assist. Having COBRA insurance didn't help matters any, and I'll be amazed if that's billed correctly. Finally, I got called back and was greeted by two X-Ray techs in street clothes, not scrubs. They were nice enough, and I took it on faith that they were reputable since they seemed to know how to operate the machine...though they didn't give me lead covers for the parts not being X-Rayed, which was surprising.
As an aside: guys may not know this, but when women go in for X-Rays, you get asked about 30 times if you're pregnant. This makes sense, seeing as you're being hit with radiation. Still, I can't help but shake my head since I'm pretty sure pregnant women were being zapped quite a bit back in the mid-20th century. I guess that's as good an explanation as any for Generation X (not a pun) and the grunge era.
Anyway, when I commented on my doctor writing "Read by 5pm" on my paperwork, one of the techs told me, "Yeah, don't count on it. Depends on the radiologist." Not entirely encouraging, but hey, so long as the pictures get to my primary doctor relatively soon, that's what counts.
My last errand of the day was to get my car's oil changed. That may not sound exciting, but the last time I got that done was...June 2008. I've honestly been expecting my poor Focus to fall apart into a heap of scrap metal any day now. I couldn't even bear to tell the oil change people how negligent I was. I took off the old sticker and hid it as I pulled into their lot and then told them I thought it had been "around six months ago." But you know what? The car was fine. Great, even. The oil people had no clue about the level of my bad car ownership because everything was in such good shape. Who knew? So, my Focus lives another day, and once again, procratination proves victorious.