Monday- I spent the day playing beat the clock against myself. It started early with dropping off my son at day camp and rushing back home to do some serious legwork. I hadn’t received my medical forms from my doctor’s office. I needed proof of that standard measles, mumps & rubella shot. I spent an hour on the phone talking to some outside source that doesn’t know my doctor or her medical assistant, trying to figure out where my paper work was. They promised to call me back. I gave them my cell number and kept it moving.
I was off on the J train off to Tekserve on 23rd and 6th Avenue. I needed a new hard drive for my laptop. I was hoping the new hard drive would give me the space I needed to do the interactive program at school. I was number 72 green ticket. I was serviced by Chad. I once had a crush on a boy is high school named Chad and was hoping that this was a sign of good luck. I was out in an hour. I could pick up my computer on Tuesday evening before closing.
I got on the A train and switched to the C train headed Uptown to deal with the medical assistant who proceeded to insult me on the phone outside of Tekserve, by asking me if I was a male. Clearly the name Anna doesn’t imply male does it? I told her the only thing that changed was my address, not my sex. You don’t have to get smart she told me. I wasn’t being smart. And I don’t sound like a man. And even if I did, what does that have to do with the fact that she was still searching for my form? It was mailed three weeks prior. Classes were beginning the next day. If I didn’t have those forms I wouldn’t be able to register. The forms were found. She had the nerve to ask if I wanted her to drop them off because she lived close to my address. Did she think I was going to accept a favor from her after such a rude conversation? No thank you I said.
When I reached the office, the doctor informed me that my forms had been mailed to me and that I should have gotten them on Saturday or that day in the mail. I was ready to bust. She pointed me in the direction of the medical assistant’s office. There was my medical form in the pile of letters to be mailed. To be mailed! The medical assistant still insisted that she would have brought them to me. I didn’t have time for her nonsense; CUNY had called and I wasn’t about to miss the boat over office shenanigans.
The Wellness Center was located at the Graduate Center on 34th and 5th Avenue. It was 3:30. The voice on the phone told me they were open until 5pm. I could make it. Back on the C train at 155th street, I headed downtown. At 4:30 I rushed through the shopping throngs on 34th street. I showed my state indentification card to the security guard who asked for my CUNY ID. I spent a moment explaining I could get that ID until I had clearance from the Wellness Center. I was let past the Special Forces and up to the 3rd floor. At the clinic, I was given a half clearance. According to the staff, it looked like I only had the most recent shots. She asked about the first one. Now as I understand it, you couldn’t have a record of the second MMR without ever having had the first one, but I wasn’t going to argue. The folks in the medical records office could hold your future at bay with just one missing form, one missing stamp. I was off to go home and call my mother. Perhaps she had something. I also thought about pulling up my left sleeve and showing the Wellness Center clerk the dark circle on my upper arm. I clearly remember getting a shot, that became swollen and itchy and oozed pus for days before crusting over. It was the ugliest thing I have ever witnessed happening to the human body. I took the half clearance and went home. Tuesday was the big day.
