I am going to be writing this blog every Sunday, therefore the name…yes, I’ve actually been thinking about this for a while. Writing a book or blog about daily life in the suburbs. I know what you are thinking…what a novel idea that I and thousands of others have had, well here’s one more to add to the list.
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Doctor’s Office or ( Does This Cab Go to the Loop?)
One day I awoke to the chirping birds and sunny skies of what I was sure was going to be a beautiful day. Then I heard my daughter call me from her bed. Mind you, my children are what you’d call all grown. When they were younger, I would dream and in my dream the three darlings who were up again asking for something were “all grown up”. They would get up with their alarm the first time, dress and feed themselves, take showers, clean up after themselves and do their own laundry. Oh and never get sick. I would then be able to have time for myself. Write that novel, go back to school, Get a high-powered six figure job, invent something, whatever I wanted to do, I could do it. I just had to hang in there a little longer. They will eventually move out or go to college and will be self-sufficient I thought confidently as I went back to sleep peacefully thinking of that day….hold onto that thought
So back to the more recent morning, I awake and hear the sounds of chirping birds. No wait that’s not a bird that’s the sounds of distress coming from my grown (well almost ) 18-year-old daughters room. I won’t go into too much medical detail as it is personal, but after several phone calls to my doctor and the family doctor I was finally able to get her into see my doctor. I am sure the nurse said she will need to give a sample.
Interruption- My Son came in with his girlfriend from work. He is certain for days he has either MRSA or bed bugs because he has been itching a lot and looked it up on the internet. His girlfriend says she is now itching too. They are sure it is something in my home. Even though the girlfriend lives in an apartment with three other girls. I have been telling them to go to the doctor for a week and get it checked out but they prefer to just keep telling me about it. Note-no one else in the house is itching.
Back to story, so I make the appointment and because my car is in the shop, call my husband to see if he can take his lunch hour to come home and let me use his car to drive my daughter to the doctor. He can’t because of a meeting and my daughter is becoming more vocal about her pain and discomfort. So I call a cab.
In the meantime I tell her she needs to pee in a plastic cup which we need to bring to the doctor’s office. This she does and seeing the cab has arrived I hurriedly wrap the cup with foil and being out of plastic zip lock bags place it in a brown lunch bag. As I get in the taxi, I wave to my neighbor who has a perplexed look on her face. In the cab with my daughter, driving down the street I feel something wet on the seat. I start to get grossed out but try to remain calm and as far away as I can from the wet area. I then look down at the brown paper bag and realize that it was leaking! I tried not to panic and held it over the floor scrambling to find a kleenex in my purse as my daughter looked over with horror on her face. I gave her the look that says “don’t say a word or I will kill you!” She kept quiet for the rest of the ride while I looked down at a wet and still dripping bag. Which I am now holding over my purse as to not get the taxi dirty, yes you heard me I didn’t want to get the taxi dirty ( you know how clean they all are) How did this happen? Then I remembered the quick wave to the neighbor with the hand that held the bag. Oh no I didn’t did I? First the taxi comes to pick me and my daughter up which reminds me of the neighbor who used to live down the street who had to take taxis because of a D.U.I. Great, the brown paper bag will back that up. I nonchalantly bantered with the cabbie to avert suspicion away from the dripping wet bag. Threw the money at him and high tailed it out of the taxi at the entrance to the doctor’s office building making note to anonymously call the cab company and tell them to disinfect that cab when I got home. “Whew!” I said to my daughter,” Thank goodness that’s over. ” We then duck into the bathroom throw out the bag and wrap the cup in paper towels.
This doctors office is very poshly decorated and in the neighboring upscale town. Fine furnishings, artwork, classical music. As I make my way to the front desk to announce we are here and start to hand the sample over, I notice a look of disdain coming from the receptionist. I tell her I was told to bring in a sample to which she states looking askance at me “Oh no, she has to be seen by the doctor and give the sample in the office!” I then look at the cup and oh yes you guessed it. It is leaking again. Looking disapprovingly at me they tell me to hurry and take it out to the bathroom in the lobby. My daughter at this point is mortified at the events and says to me she is not a dog and you don’t bring in samples unless you are a dog! I bring the dripping cup into the bathroom and that’s when I notice the small but deadly crack which turned my day upside down.
We eventually got home, I called the taxi company and tried to explain . (That’s a whole other story for another day) In the days following, I cleaned out my purse, cleaned and scrubbed out my sons room wrapping his mattress in plastic, vacuuming the walls you know just in case, baked a cake for my neighbor who had started snubbing me. But the devil in me decided to put rum in it… just to keep ’em guessing. Ah yes, just another….