…the arrival of M’hijito, who is slated to drag me out to the Mayo Clinic this morning.
UGH! How do I hate schlepping halfway to Payson to go to a doctor? One who usually hasn’t much to say that I don’t already know… BLECH!
The particularly annoying aspect of a Mayo Clinic appointment is that, for reasons unknown, they tend to schedule their meetings with patients on Sunday mornings. So…if you’re the church-going type? Tough nougies!
Even tougher when you’re on the church’s choir…
GOD it used to annoy me when some doctor would co-opt the Sunday morning choir performance!!!
Oh well: it’s moot nowadays.
Our beloved choir director retired and wandered off into the mists. The new guy: well, he’s very talented, no doubt. But he apparently hasn’t the patience to deal with wannabe singers. This is a fella who wants the Real Thing.
So after he got settled into the job, he started hiring and recruiting professional-level vocalists. This left dowdy ole’ ladies like me outside in the fog… Seriously: I couldn’t even begin to keep up with the music and the fellow singers. So before long, I quit the choir.
Considered going downtown to the Cathedral, which has (or had, anyway) a lot of our ex-members, and so probably performs about on the level I was used to. But y’know…I really don’t want to get out of my car by myself in that part of town. It IS dangerous. After dark, that is. By day, it’s just a business district with a few late-model apartment buildings.
By night, though…it’s alarming. And most rehearsals are held during mid-week evenings.
WHERE the heck is my fine young chauffeur???
Traipse to the back room. Check calendar. DAYUM! The appointment isn’t till this afternoon! He’s not slated to get here till 11:15 or 11:30.
Barf-A-Roonies!!!!! Just how I wanted to blow away the whole goddamn day, traipsing across the city to sit in a waiting room and then finally to see a quack who will tell me — SURPRISE!!! — nothing’s wrong with me. Then we can spend another hour driving back across the city, arriving home without lunch and generally frazzled from driving through Phoenix’s ever-entertaining traffic.
See…this is my problem with the Mayo: it’s too damn far away. Seriously: it really is almost an hour’s drive each way, so you’re gonna blow away a good two hours in driving and parking, and you still haven’t even wasted your 30 minutes talking to a doctor who tells you nothing’s wrong with you.
The docs themselves seem to fly on the high side of excellent. And given that a lot of the local GPs practicing in Phoenix don’t even make it to the low side of good, that surely does make it worth the drive.
But worth it or not: the drive is non-fun. No question o’ that.
***
GRRR..RRARRRRRR….GRRRRRR!
***
What IS it about a mascara wand that you, as a cleaning lady, cannot resist hiding the damn thing???????
Yes. Go to get ready for the Mayo junket, and I find…what? My mascara is GONE.
Not in any of the bathroom drawers.
Not on the bathroom counter.
Not in any of the bedrooms.
Not flickin ANYWHERE!
Once again, Wonder-Cleaning Lady has found an object that she doesn’t much approve of (apparently), and so she’s deep-sixed it.
Searched all over the house for it.
Can’t find it.
So…she must have thrown it out.
grrrrrrrrrrrr!!!
This is not the first time…. Apparently when she’s absorbed in cleaning, she’ll throw out an object if she doesn’t know what it is.
{?? How many women don’t know what a mascara wand is?)
I must have carelessly left it on the bathroom counter. And she must have interpreted that as “toss it.”
*******
Here we are at the Mayo…endlessly…. Hooked to a hanging bag with transparent hoses and needles and weird stuff dripping into the arm from a bag… Staff is great — beyond great to awe-inspiring, actually. But that sure doesn’t make a trip here — a whole damn afternoon — any more fun.
My poor son has had to take time off his job to haul me out here. And we’ve been sitting here and sitting here and SITTING HERE for what feels like half the day. Grand fun!
Hip hurts. Dunno what I did to it, but whatever: it’s mightily spavined. Hurts and hurts and HURTS. Not moving freezes it up and makes it hurt all the more.
ooohhhh welll…