Wednesday, 16 December 2015
What is WRONG with these people!
Receptionist: Hello, good morning, may I confirm a few details first?
Receptionist: Name? Could you spell that?
Me: Certainly. (I spell my name.)
Receptionist: That’s brilliant, thank you.
(Brilliant? It’s brilliant that I know how to spell my name?)
Receptionist: Address? Post Code?
(Again I comply, singing out address and Post Code.)
Receptionist: Excellent, that’s great, thank you.
(It’s excellent that I know my address? What kind of moron do you normally deal with?)
Replies to her question as to who my doctor is and which surgery I use meet with unqualified rapture on her part. She is beside herself in praise of my intellectual acumen.
Finally, she hands me a form and invites me to sit and wait.
I say 'thank you', as good manners require.
Receptionist: NO PROBLEM.
(What? Who said anything about ‘problem’. Of course, there’s no problem. Wouldn’t ‘You’re welcome’ have been more appropriate?
I’m next for the scan; a young man calls out my name; first name only, pronouncing my surname is beyond his capabilities. I walk into the room where the huge scanner lives.
MRI technician: you can put your bag over there, pointing to the floor next to a table with a small machine on it. I comply and look a question at him about where best to put my coat. He points to the same general area. There is no chair in the room.
Me: okay if I put my coat over the machine?
MRI technician: GO FOR IT.
Go for it? GO FOR IT? I am raving. Speechlessly raving.