Tuesday, May 12, 2015

I'm Surprised Hick Didn't End Up In Miami At a Jai-Alai Tournament



Now he’s gone and done it. Hick’s got his teat in a wringer. He’s stuck in a sticky wicket. He’s in a jam. Up the creek without a paddle. His hands are tied. That’s what happens, you see, when Hick is left to fend for himself.

When he and The Pony returned from the State USBC Youth Bowling tournament in Jefferson City on Sunday, he checked the answering machine about his upcoming doctor’s appointment. The one his own physician set up with a specialist. According to Hick, an endocardologist. That’s a new one on me. But Hick insisted. I figured maybe specialists were combining their specialties these days. Hick swore that’s what his doctor told him. An endocardologist. “You know! A diabetes doctor!”

“Oh. I think you mean an endocrinologist.”

“Maybe. Whatever.”

So…Hick apparently deleted the two calls on the answering machine. Let the record show that he is not capable of picking up the phone, running through the menu, and selecting MESSAGES. No. He goes to the bedroom, kneels by my nightstand, and listens on the old-fashioned machine.

Last night, Hick asked me what the doctor’s name is that he’s supposed to see this week.

“I don’t know. You said you wrote it down and put it in your phone.”

“No. I put in the appointment day and time. Not the doctor. You said they called. What was the doctor’s name?”

“I let the machine pick up so you would have it. I don’t know. It was something foreign. I don’t know what kind of foreign. Just something that made me think, ‘I wonder how you spell that?’ You listened to the message. Go listen again.”

“I cleared out the messages.”

“Why?”

“Val. People have to wait through all those messages when they try to leave one.”

“Maybe back in 1980. Not on this phone.”

“Well, I deleted the messages, and now I don’t know what doctor I’m seeing. I have the address, though. I’ll put it in my GPS.”

“Okay. So you’ll know who the doctor is when you get to the office.”

“No. It’s a medical building.”

“I guess you can walk in and ask for the endocardologist.”

7 comments:

  1. And yet I'm sure he will find the right doc.

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  2. People have to wait through messages before leaving one? I'm shaking my head, not that i don't say questionable things.

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  3. Maybe it will take Hick weeks of wandering to find the right doctor?

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  4. The results should be interesting. At least he may get some added exercise as he wanders from suite to suite asking for an endocardologist.

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  5. joeh,
    Eventually. Hick had plans to call his regular doctor, and ask who they referred him to.

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    Stephen,
    Yeah, back in the 80s. You would hear a beep-beep-beep-beep, one for each call already on the machine. It's not like they got to hear the messages from the collection agency wanting to talk to people you never heard of, from the school regarding an upcoming community activity, from the congressman wanting to know your position on upcoming legislation, or the town meeting that you could join on a certain day and time.

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    Sioux,
    Or perhaps weeks of WONDERING...

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    Linda,
    Interesting, yes. He might get shown the bum's rush if the office people have their fill of his wandering.

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  6. I needed a good chuckle tonight, you will have to thank Hick for me.

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