Posts Tagged ‘Emerald City’


If You Visit Your Cardiologist, You’ll Wind Up in Kansas?

ruby slippers

There are days when I truly wonder if my cardiologist gets that Prinzmetal Angina is stress-induced…and today would be one of those days. I had my first follow-up with him since my release from the hospital in June. If you’re not up on my “health adventures,” I suggest you read this first. Here’s why:

1. It takes 3 weeks to make 2 appointments 2 months away that require 75 minute car trips one-way.

2. Finding a parking space in the parking garage across the street from his office complex is basically an exercise in futility despite 4 rather massive levels.

3. The only way to get into the office building is via a continuously-moving revolving door with big red letters on the glass which says, “DO NOT PUSH DOOR UNLESS THE DOOR IS STOPPED!” People ahead of us invariably push the door despite its movement and thus, the door stops. (Picture me rolling my eyes!)

4. Once on the 5th floor, one is told to sign in and sit down. Upon sitting down (pretty far away from the receptionist), the receptionist calls your name and hands you a clipboard with a questionnaire asking you to reveal whether you are: a psycho killer, about to go into labor, or having a heart attack right now. (Well, I wasn’t, but now that I think about it, I have noticed some OCD moments lately, my seat is wet and this insanity is causing me to reach for the nitro pills.)

5. After you complete said questionnaire and you dutifully return it promptly to the receptionist, she takes the documents off the clipboard and hands them back to you to give to the nurse and you’re told to go back and sit down in Canada again.

6. A surly nurse’s aide takes you to an exam room and you are asked when the psychosis began, how far apart your contractions are and should they get the heart paddles soon. Then she proceeds to try and take your blood pressure from the very arm where vampires sucked every ounce of blood from your veins earlier in the day. To take it on the other arm, you either have to get really friendly with a surly nurse’s aide or become a contortionist. I’ll let you guess which option Ms. Surly chose.

7. If you should feel the need to relieve yourself while waiting for the physician’s aide, you have to take a left turn in Montana, a right turn when you’re in New Mexico and hope the sign is in English. After a while I really wondered if I was going to have to re-read, “Who Moved My Cheese?”

8. Finally the aide comes in and one gets good news. then she leaves to inform the doc that you really would like to see the Wizard. I guess that means I am either in the Emerald City or Kansas. Maybe I’ll get out of the maze now that I have a GPS location?

9. The doctor tells you pretty good news, as well. Hey, he really IS the Wizard. Guess I’m in Emerald City today.

10. About the time you think you can leave in the hot air balloon, another vampire deflates said balloon by sticking you with a pin to suck you dry one more time and to make sure you don’t leave Oz.

11. Then, the Wicked Witch of the West appears and tells you, “I’ll get you, my Pretty. You get to do more stomach injections.” Where is water when I need it???

12. Finally, you are granted permission to leave and you get in line to pay for all of this wonderfulness. Apparently, you have to pay green to get out of the Emerald City. And you wondered why they called it the Emerald City? Aha! Now you know.

13. After you pay the green, another receptionist tells you that it will be the next millennium until you can return to Oz to be poked and prodded by the Wicked Witch of the West again. Joy. Where is Glenda and the Munchkins when I need them?

14. After paying the green, then you get to go through the Yellow-Brick Revolving door again and begin your “Where’s Waldo?” search for your car in the massive parking garage. (Yes, I know I’ve mixed several metaphors now…but blame it on the lack of blood flow to my brain, thanks to the vampires.)

15. After leaving the parking garage, your hubby will exclaim, “There’s no place like DFW…there’s no place like DFW…” because that really IS where he lives. Someone forgot to tell him that Dorothy lives southwest of there. Time to call out my flying monkeys. Hmmm…maybe I’m turning into the Wicked Witch of the Southwest. If so, cancel the water order. If I’m seeing flying monkeys, I probably need more Xanax.

The bottom line? More stomach injections and another blood test on Thursday. *sigh*

Thursday’s Post: 100 Things on My To-Do List…

You might also like: Lessons Learned from De-Kidding My House and Lessons Learned from Being a Pansy and No, I Don’t Mean the Flower