"There is increased grinding and popping in the sagittal region." "Sagittal? But I'm a Cancer!"
Life never fails to be interesting for me on the medical front. Wednesday I met my mom in Calgary; my first cortisone injection was bright and early Thursday morning. So we get to the Holy Cross and find the Advanced Spinal Care Centre, which, incidentally, is in the basement and as such I'm fairly certain qualifies as at least one of the many circles of hell. I'm trying to stay up beat and overly Mary Poppinsish in my outlook, so I bound up to the desk and proudly proclaim "I have an appointment at 9:30! Last name Sawisky, first name Kathleen!" (Unfortunately the five piece band I had hired to announce my arrival turned out to be double booked.) That was when it all went to hell in a hand basket. The receptionist looks at me, to the desk, to the tower of file folders beside her, flips one open and then turns back to me to say "We've been trying to contact you for three days." Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no no no. "We don't have your requisition for...