I went to a new doctor last week because I had run out of my two prescriptions for blood pressure and water retention. They drew some blood as part of the routine check (always fun to pay for all of this, because of course I don’t have any health insurance anymore.) This morning I received a call from the clinic asking me to come in to speak to the doctor and get my results.
Well, you know how it is: if everything is fine, you never hear anything; if there’s a flag, they call you; if they ask you in, it’s usually because you’re about to fall apart, so I was not delighted to get the call.
So I signed up for the 1pm appointment as I’d rather not wait for bad news. Edmund decided to accompany me because he was worried and we drove the 17 miles there (just under 30 km). When I walked into the waiting room a few minutes early, there was one patient being seen and another waiting, so I knew I’d be there for a little bit, but it didn’t seem too bad. (Continued after the cut.)