If I didn’t have a vague leaning towards claustrophobia, I might spend more time with my head in a paper packet. In the circumstances it’s just as well I can laugh at myself and move on.
Having started using computer screens in 1981, it’s incredible that I’ve only started wearing reading glasses in the last three or four years. The two yearly check-up took place a few weeks ago and the lenses needed to be adjusted slightly. The previous pair had arrived one week after the appointment so, when a week had come and gone this time around, thoughts of the new frames moved to the backburner.
Work resumed and things settled down for the year ahead. Then right out of the blue, I needed to see a doctor last week which resulted in being sent for a blood test. Just as well to get that out of the way for the rest of the year, hopefully ; maybe I should have asked them to extract a whole cup for future tests and save me the prospect of having more needles stuck in me. My alltime dislike.
By the time I got back to the office from the laboratory there were already missed calls on my phone from unrecognised sources. It turned out the sister who took the sample had called but then left the office so a message was left for her to contact me again. When I next looked at my phone it was mid-afternoon and, lo and behold, another missed call from an unknown number. So I phoned back and the receptionist didn’t have a clue who I was. She asked if I’d had any recent tests. Patiently I explained I’d had blood drawn that morning. After asking around the office she put me through to a guy I most definitely hadn’t seen that day. When told my name he said “ah, Ms Bruce, your glasses are ready”.
Bet that receptionist never asks him to check her eyes.