Somebody needs to offer medical personnel at least a short workshop on human psychology.
I’ve had two mammograms and an ultrasound today. Three hours. Sat in a waiting room with women who have one or no breasts. One woman is crying into the phone, “Honey, they found a lump.” Finally, the nurse comes in with my results and says, with a crestfallen look, “I’m SO sorry!”
“Yes?” I say, trying not to start googling 5-year survival rates.
“We have a high volume of patients right now, and the equipment started malfunctioning in one of the rooms. . .”
“Do you have my results?” I croak.
“Oh!” she says. “Yes! It’s benign. You’re fine, you can go.”
Every time I come into one of these things, the doctor says, “Your blood pressure is elevated. Why is that?”
Because I know you, people, will scare me to death and I’m getting ready for it.
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