Wassup!

Colleen's thoughts on writing, directing and coaching, and her unique take on life itself!

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Consequences of speaking up...

OK, so Friday I was sent to the hospital lab for blood samples.

It was just a checkup.

I was very proud of my timing. Normally the joint is jumping with patients so there's a wait.

But today? There was only one other person in the waiting room, and he had been sitting there awhile, reading. Who knows? He might have been someone's ride and not there to be sampled himself.

So I walked up to the medic behind the desk, tried to hand him my paperwork and he asked, "did you take a number?"

"Excuse me?"

"A number. Did you take one. Across the room."

I looked around again to make certain I was really the only person needing their service. There was nearly an echo when we spoke, the place was so unpopulated.

"A number?"

"A number."

OK, he actually wanted me to walk across the empty room and pull a number from the little machine.

So I stared at him and asked, "Seriously, you want me to walk across the room and get a number."

He stared back.

As I walked across the room, excusing myself for possibly stepping on the feet of any ghosts that might be on hand, I asked, "Seriously, am I in a Saturday Night Live sketch or something? Where are the hidden cameras, huh?"

And dutifully brought my number, 33, back to the desk and stood there.

"Thirty three," he called.

Since I was standing directly in front of him, I handed him the small numbered paper.

Very businesslike, he took it from me along with my paperwork.

"Can I see some photo ID?" he asked.

"It's in the car. Don't have any on me, just my medical ID," I responded and showed it to him. It doesn't have my picture on it. The new ones do, I just haven't gotten mine yet.

I showed him other ID I had on me - business card, credit card....

"I need photo ID."

Now, I've never been asked for photo ID at the lab before, because I have paperwork accompanying me and they receive a computerized notification that I'm coming.

If it's a new policy, I'll be sure to bring some next time I'm in the hospital. I figured it was really all about that mouth thing.

About how I made a verbal point of declaring how really stupid it was to have me walk across the room to get a number when I'm the only person "in line." Or I guess New Yorkers say, "on line."

I could have just thought how stupid it was.

But, nooooooo, I had to make fun of the situation and there was really no audience except the offender. That's where I went wrong. Next time, I'll be sure and deliver those pithy observations when there are people around to appreciate them.

Mr. Medical Man with his tiny little .. bit of power .. finally decided I actually was who I claimed to be and I got drawn and sampled.

Lesson learned. And it's one more thing to talk about at the ball game tomorrow.

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