Saturday, May 27, 2017

Can You Guess Hick's Latest Transgression?

Oh, come on! As if I would really ask you such a question. You KNOW that everything Hick does is wrong, so guessing his latest transgression would be a Herculean task. It CAN be done, but will require countless attempts.

Here is a note I found when I returned home after a mere 45 minutes away to pick up my 44 oz Diet Coke and scratcher tickets.

Yes, that note IS written on a paper plate. That's Hick's stationery of choice. At least he used a clean plate. But look closely at the message. Hick's penmanship is just a sliver above that of Joe H's wife. I didn't have trouble understanding it, except for that last part, which I thought maybe said, "Call Thor." Since I didn't see anyone named Thor, I figured Hick meant that word to be "them." That's the problem with that plate note. It lacked detail.

When interrogated questioned, Hick went on the offensive before my mouth had even started harping questioning.

"I wouldn't have picked up and listened, but I was expecting a call from the pharmacy about my medicine!"

"Well, I'm not sure who to call. I went to the doctor nurse practitioner Monday, and to radiology on Wednesday. So I don't know who to call for results. Is it for my blood tests, or my mammogram? They're two separate offices."

"Just go listen to the message."

Funny thing with our phone. If you pick up, it doesn't record a message. So Hick told me to look at the last call, which was a scammer, but the next-to-last number was the hospital number. Used by both radiology and the clinic. So I asked Hick how he didn't remember any details if he picked up and got the name JENNY, and he said he knew it wasn't for him, so he didn't pay attention, because he knew the machine would record it.

So...I called the hospital number. You realize that is long distance from Backroads, right? And I have to call on the land line because we have terrible cell phone reception at our house. You probably also realize that you can't just get a person when you call a hospital anymore. You get that long list of pick this number if you want this. I picked the number to talk to my doctor nurse practitioner. You realize, don't you, that office personnel use this to screen their calls? You never get a person. You get a message that they are either on another call, or they are helping a patient. Though when I have gone to the office, there are always two or three gals sitting at the desk, chatting about various non-work topics, and not helping patients or talking to them on the phone.

I left a message that I didn't know if somebody from their office had called with my test results, and gave my name and number so they could call me back at their whim. THEN I called the hospital number back, and waited for a real person at the end of the endless choice list, and the minute I mentioned that I didn't know if to call radiology or my doctor nurse practitioner, they asked who I saw, and I gave the name, and BOOM I was right back on the answering machine of that office. So I left another message. Because, you see, I didn't know if they were calling to say I needed further testing, and to schedule an appointment, or if it was just a courtesy call with my lab results, which they promised at my last appointment six months ago, and never followed through on.

I really miss my old doctor YES, DOCTOR, who scheduled the bloodwork a week ahead of the appointment, and then discussed the results with me in person. I guess that's too logical for the young whippersnapper who took his place, since he always schedules the labs for the week AFTER the appointment, unless you ask to go that very day, and save a trip.

Anyhoo...Hick was released from the hook about an hour later, when the doctor's nurse practitioner's nurse called me back with the results. Apparently, I have the body of a taut, pre-teen Swedish boy. Oh, wait! No I don't! That was Kramer, wearing too-tight jeans.

What that nurse actually revealed were the results of my mammogram (everything's fine, repeat in one year), and when pressed, said she'd look for the bloodwork results. In fact, she was even to the point of putting down the phone (NO!) and taking the elevator up one floor to ask them about it, but then she found it. The only three items she mentioned, after saying everything looked good, was that my fasting glucose level was 92, my total cholesterol was 142, and my good cholesterol (HDL) was 66.

So I guess I'm still kickin'. And capable of kickin' Hick's butt if he doesn't learn to take better messages.


  1. Glad all is well in your bra and veins. Can't knock Hick on his stationery. I always used a paper plate for leaving a note and placed it on the floor so the recipient would STEP on it and couldn't say they missed the message. But if you feel the need to kick Hick, go ahead.

    1. Yes, I'm as healthy as a mini pony! Hick would simply step over a plate on the floor without reading it. He inspects one on the counter in case there might be food on it for him, and this habit of mine has trained HIM to leave his message-plates there too.

      My balance isn't what it used to be, so I will reserve the Hick kicks until they're absolutely necessary.

  2. I guess you could leave a stack of paper plates by the phone with "Name and Call Back Number" followed by a line written on never know it could work.

    1. Hmm...that sounds like a new product I could market on the counter of my proposed handbasket factory. Don't expect a cut of the profits, but I might be able to get you a free season pass to the adjacent Hick's Shackytown theme park.