Do You Feel Lucky? Well, DO YOU PUNK?

Flash Back Friday

When my daughter was in high school, she hurt her wrist. I can't remember how she did it. I remember she gave herself a mild concussion by slamming her head on the tampon dispenser in the bathroom (and, oh, what a lot of laughs we have gotten from that story!) but I can't remember how she hurt her wrist.
They called me from her school and I went and picked her up and took her to the emergency room. The wrist was pretty swollen, she was in pain and I was thinking an x-ray would be an excellent idea. When we finally reached the check-in desk, the receptionist called our pediatrician to confirm that she could, indeed be treated but, here's the kicker. The woman she spoke to said we had to go to the pediatrician's office first. Before they would do the x-ray. She hung up and informed me of this.

"Are...are you sure?" I stammered. I couldn't believe it. I had to drive across town before they would fix her wrist? But, being the good and obedient person that I am, who bows before authority, I bundled my crying daughter into the car and we drove across town.

We were seen immediately. As the doctor was examining her wrist, she said casually "Why didn't you just go to the emergency room?" I stared at her, stunned. "I was told we had to come here!". "Oh, no", she replied. "That was a mistake. You should have been seen at the hospital."

I could literally feel my mothering instinct sweeping over my body, like an alien invader taking over as puppetmaster. "Well, who told them that at the hospital?" I inquired politely, not letting her know the heated anger that was raging through my body. "It must have been our receptionist", she replied. And she sent us to yet another location to be x-rayed.

But on the way out, I stopped by the office. "Who?" I asked in a deadly calm voice, "Who did I just talk to on the phone who told me we had to come to this office from the hospital?" One of the women in the office looked up. "Oh, that was me. Ha, ha, my mistake."

And the heated angry alien mother let her have it. I yelled at her that I had just driven my daughter all the way across town with a broken wrist (actually, sprained, but we didn't know that then) and it was all her fault and she should know her job better than that.

The office was right by the waiting room. It was full of parents and children. They were all watching. I didn't care. I don't care.

I'm still glad I yelled at her.