Dis-appointmenting
Wednesday, April 26:
I am supposed to have an appointment with the genetic counselor tomorrow. The whole thing about how they didn’t get a good enough look at the lip last time, so they’re making me come back again for another look.
But last night, my husband encouraged me to ditch the appointment. Every time, there’s a long wait. And it’s another copay. And he’s convinced there will always be another ultrasound or another test the doctor will want to do, and it will be a never-ending string of time-wasting appointments until the baby arrives.
So I call, find out the office closes earlier than usual on Wednesday, and cancel the appointment with a voicemail. I say in my message that I will call back to reschedule. Because I just might, after all.
I am supposed to have an appointment with the genetic counselor tomorrow. The whole thing about how they didn’t get a good enough look at the lip last time, so they’re making me come back again for another look.
But last night, my husband encouraged me to ditch the appointment. Every time, there’s a long wait. And it’s another copay. And he’s convinced there will always be another ultrasound or another test the doctor will want to do, and it will be a never-ending string of time-wasting appointments until the baby arrives.
So I call, find out the office closes earlier than usual on Wednesday, and cancel the appointment with a voicemail. I say in my message that I will call back to reschedule. Because I just might, after all.
posted by Damselfly at 4:25 PM
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