Friday, November 4, 2011

Are You SURE You Want a Monday?

(Note...this was written several weeks ago for Motherhood Uncovered. It will be published there later this month. We have been to the doctor and they have referred us to a dermatologist. Also on a Monday, but they got it that I needed a Monday. Go figure.)


I recently needed to make Ben a doctor's appointment for what appears to be a growing wart on his elbow. It's been there for a long time, probably years, and I never really thought anything about it other than it was probably a wart on his elbow. I figured if it was bothering him, he would tell me and we could do something about it.

I can't remember when the wart showed up. It might have been sometime in high school. He graduated in 2010, so it's been there awhile. But it seems like maybe it might be getting bigger. Or flatter. Or something.

The other night, he came downstairs with his car keys in hand, and said, "I'm going to the store to get something for this thing on my elbow." I said okay, gave him the bonus card and some cash (because I'm still his mother and if he needs a wart removed from his elbow, I'm all there with the cash).

He came back shortly thereafter, with said bonus card and cash, and said, "I couldn't find anything." I said, "Well, maybe they have some Compound W at CVS. I could go for you tomorrow if you'd like." And didn't think much more about it. Until Justin said, "You know, we really should have a doctor take a look at that and take care of it."

Now, of course, we are 99.9% sure this is just a wart. I had warts (one of my dirty little secrets) all over my hands when I was about 6 or 7 and I can remember my mom taking me to the doctor, something about liquid nitrogen, and my screaming uncontrollably when they touched it to each and every wart. Say what you will about doctors who are sadists to 6 year old little girls. Those warts fell off a week or so later and I've never had another one.

I had meant to make an appointment on Monday, but didn't. When Monday ended up be one of the suckiest days of my life, Ben's wart just wasn't on the top of my to do list.

Last night, I wrote myself a sticky note to make the appointment and tried to think of where I could put it where I would see it. I ended up putting it on the kitchen island where we set all things medical that need to be done (as in prescriptions to be refilled, etc.) and went up to bed.

This morning, I got up, took a shower, checked Facebook (priorities, people, priorities) and headed out to see my mother for a few hours. When I got home, I noticed the blue sticky on the island and said "Oh, I need to make Ben an appointment." So I picked up the phone and called the doctor's office.

After what seemed like three hours on hold (ten minutes - tops), a voice came on asking how she could help me. I explained what I needed and that I needed a Monday appointment because that was my son's only day off from school and work during the week. She looked through her calendar on the computer, muttered to herself that oh, this day is full, and oh that day is full. And then she said (wait for it)...

Receptionist: Are you sure it has to be a Monday?


Um, no. I was testing you. I really wanted a Tuesday, but I was trying to see if my Vulcan mind-meld was working.

Did I say any of this? No. I politely answered that yes, I was sure it had to be a Monday, explained why it had to be a Monday (again), and waited until she found a Monday appointment. I wasn't picky. It could be any Monday in the near future, but yes, it had to be a Monday.

After I hung up, I told Justin about what she had said and he started laughing at the stupidity of the question.

I'd like to think she just didn't hear me the first time around. But since she was looking at Mondays to begin with, I have to believe that she heard me and processed that I wanted a Monday appointment. And that she heard the reason. That reason wasn't going to change just because her calendar wasn't cooperating.

So we have an appointment on a Monday. Now I have to make sure that Ben is aware of the appointment and remind him 30 gazillion times in the days leading up to the appointment not to forget the appointment. Since he was the one wanting to get rid of whatever this protruberance is on his elbow.

Sometimes being a Mom leads you to meet some smart, interesting people. And then sometimes, it really doesn't.

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