Hick has been trying to get a sleep study for several months. His breather isn't working right, and to get a new one, he needs a referral from a doctor, who needs a sleep study to justify it. Hick's current breather isn't actually "his." The original CPAP, gotten after a sleep study at the local hospital sleep lab, conked out several years ago.
Being Hick, he found one on his own to use in the meantime. Found it at the flea market. "It belonged to some dead guy," said Hick. "I figure it will work well enough until I can get a sleep study, even though it's not set specifically for me."
You know how Hick delays things that need to be done. It was only recently that he started asking for a sleep study. Molasses in January moves faster than the medical offices around here. Hick had a little fit last week with his doctor (NP) about the lack of an appointment. The sleep lab called him back in a couple days. They could work him in during December.
"That's way too far off! Get me one at another hospital in your network!"
They did. At the hospital 30 miles north. On October 31.
"HEY! That's Halloween!"
"Yeah. Well. That's the soonest they could get me in."
"Heh, heh! You know the staff will be dressed up in costumes."
"Maybe."
"I took my mom for surgery on Halloween. There were Frankensteins and vampires and all kinds of creatures roaming the halls. It did not make her any more confident in her surgeon. Even though he wasn't dressed up."
"Well, if they do, they do."
"You'll wake up and see them. Hope you don't have a nightmare!"
"I think I'll be okay."
"I hope I am. I hope nobody decides to TRICK us while I'm home by myself."
"I think you'll be okay, too."
Yeah. I probably will. We never get any trick-or-treaters. Only one in 27 years.
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