In terms of telephone hell, I got the prize in the Cracker Jack box today. And not the crappy stickers they have as a prize now; I got the really cool little rubber bouncing ball AND a set of lick on tattoos, like they had when I was a kid.

Trying to make an appointment with my endocrinologist is “I Will Transfer You” insanity. You start with central appointments, they don’t have his schedule, so they transfer the call to endocrinology, only they think endocrinology I in the medicine clinic, which it’s not, so the medicine clinic tries to transfer the call the to sub-specialty clinic, which is the right one, but the call winds up being answered in radiology… :::pauses to take a breath::: Well, I learned that it’s just easier to drive the 7 miles to the base and make the appointment in person.

So that’s what I did today. I put the top down on the car and drove to the base, waved my ID card at the gate guard and went in, and proceeded to the hospital.

My doc does not have any appointments available this month, and did not have a schedule available for next. Since I will run out of at least one of my meds before then, I left a message…and figured I’d be back on Friday (when said schedule should be ready) to make the appointment.

But then the lady at the desk handed it to me.
My very own Golden Ticket.
A card with the phone number that goes directly to the clinic.

I won’t have to drive out there to make another appointment. I can smile sweetly and get the Spouse Thingy to call an make it for me (because, as most of the world now knows, I don’t ‘do’ phones…)

Granted, I will have to go back to pick up the scrip, but hell! I got the phone number!

Life is good.

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