Having been married for 13 years, you would think the topic of Mayo vs Miracle Whip would've been discussed by now. Well, it didn't come up until last Friday. We were heading to Idaho for a swim meet - and to hurry things along I sent DH to the store with a short shopping list: Milk, bread, diet coke, snacks for the trip - and mayonnaise.
DH returned home with his shopping list (and then some - but that's another post for another day). He had done a pretty decent job of shopping - got some great deals. But instead of buying mayo - he bought a big jar of Miracle Whip - YUCK!
"Why did you buy this nasty Miracle Whip?" I asked. DH answered - "I've always like Miracle Whip better than Mayonnaise." I replied with, "What the?"
Now, I grew up on Miracle Whip - and once I went to college and tried Mayonnaise--I was sold. I vowed never to force Miracle Whip on my children (thereby doing the opposite by forcing Mayo on them).
Who knew that my husband felt so strongly about the dressing that goes on his sandwiches? I guess we will have to become like other couples in this world who instead of letting something divide them - they compromise. My fridge will now be a Mayo/Miracle Whip friendly fridge.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Friday, November 9, 2007
The Rollercoaster of House Cleaning
Recently I hosted a Birthday Brunch at my home for some of the ladies in my ward. I'm proud to say my house was in ship-shape order (after two days of deep cleaning it better have been). At one point during the cleaning process, I thought to myself - it should not be this difficult to clean my house and keep it up. But, as I thought about it, I came to the conclusion that there are different ways to clean your house depending on the visitor. I subscribe to the rollercoaster of house cleaning -- some days I'm up and ready to clean - and other days I'm not. So I can't really be held accountable for my wiley ways.
Everyday Cleaning: This can last anywhere from one hour to a full eight hours. I've often told my sister, that if someone would just call me in the morning and tell me that they were going to be to my house in a couple of hours and wanted the grand tour - my housework would get done so much quicker. On days that I've managed to drag the cleaning out all day, that final hour before the kids get home involves an aerobic workout of epic proportions.
Dad's Out of Town Cleaning: Can you say messy house?
Hometeacher Cleaning: We've all been there - it's the end of the month and after church on Sunday your hometeacher calls wanting to know if they can come over for a visit. You've just finished Sunday dinner, and you realize that even though the primary song says Saturday is a special day - and that it's supposed to be the day you get ready for Sunday - the only thing you did to prepare for Sunday was make sure your fridge was stocked with diet coke (DH frowns on breaking the Sabbath for a diet coke and a migraine rarely changes his mind). Once again, it's time for the aerobic workout - but with the kids helping it only takes 30 minutes to straighten the house (as a matter of fact, if I ask the kids to straighten up the front room on a Sunday, invariable they ask - "are the hometeachers coming today?")
Overnight Visitors: This is the ultimate of the deep clean because you have people coming and staying who may be opening drawers in the kitchen. Do I really want them to know that I don't just have one junk drawer but three? My kids hate overnight visitors because they know it's going to involve cleaning a lot of nooks and even more crannies.
Family Visitors: If it's mom or my sis then it's anybody's guess as to what my house is going to look like. Any other type of family, we are just doing the basics - bathroom, main living area, kitchen etc. I figure family won't judge me if my kitchen rugs need to be washed - but they might if their foot sticks to the floor.
My Kids' Friends: If I want a clean house - really fast. All I have to say is, "Hey, does anyone want to invite a friend over?" Those kids of mine clean like there is no tomorrow at the drop of the word 'friends'. During the summer, most days they'd have their work done by 930 am so they could play. Of course, there is a negative to the aspect of cleaning for friends. My kids + Their friends = Messes.
Relief Society Visitors: These ladies with their sweet smiles and nice personalities are the shrewdest of the shrewd visitors. Dust? Better not have any. Floor? Better be spotless. Judge not that ye be judged? That's been thrown out your streak free window. I'm kidding a little bit of course. But, I do feel like my house needs to be on its best behavior when RS sisters come by for luncheons or meetings.
My favorite scripture is found in Doctrine & Covenants 88:119 Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing, and establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God;
There are times in my life when I feel like I'm living in a organized house of order - and there are other times when I'm not. I like balance - so hopefully one of these days I will be able to balance my time and other activities with the cleaning of my house. Until then - welcome to the roller coaster of cleaning that I call home.
Everyday Cleaning: This can last anywhere from one hour to a full eight hours. I've often told my sister, that if someone would just call me in the morning and tell me that they were going to be to my house in a couple of hours and wanted the grand tour - my housework would get done so much quicker. On days that I've managed to drag the cleaning out all day, that final hour before the kids get home involves an aerobic workout of epic proportions.
Dad's Out of Town Cleaning: Can you say messy house?
Hometeacher Cleaning: We've all been there - it's the end of the month and after church on Sunday your hometeacher calls wanting to know if they can come over for a visit. You've just finished Sunday dinner, and you realize that even though the primary song says Saturday is a special day - and that it's supposed to be the day you get ready for Sunday - the only thing you did to prepare for Sunday was make sure your fridge was stocked with diet coke (DH frowns on breaking the Sabbath for a diet coke and a migraine rarely changes his mind). Once again, it's time for the aerobic workout - but with the kids helping it only takes 30 minutes to straighten the house (as a matter of fact, if I ask the kids to straighten up the front room on a Sunday, invariable they ask - "are the hometeachers coming today?")
Overnight Visitors: This is the ultimate of the deep clean because you have people coming and staying who may be opening drawers in the kitchen. Do I really want them to know that I don't just have one junk drawer but three? My kids hate overnight visitors because they know it's going to involve cleaning a lot of nooks and even more crannies.
Family Visitors: If it's mom or my sis then it's anybody's guess as to what my house is going to look like. Any other type of family, we are just doing the basics - bathroom, main living area, kitchen etc. I figure family won't judge me if my kitchen rugs need to be washed - but they might if their foot sticks to the floor.
My Kids' Friends: If I want a clean house - really fast. All I have to say is, "Hey, does anyone want to invite a friend over?" Those kids of mine clean like there is no tomorrow at the drop of the word 'friends'. During the summer, most days they'd have their work done by 930 am so they could play. Of course, there is a negative to the aspect of cleaning for friends. My kids + Their friends = Messes.
Relief Society Visitors: These ladies with their sweet smiles and nice personalities are the shrewdest of the shrewd visitors. Dust? Better not have any. Floor? Better be spotless. Judge not that ye be judged? That's been thrown out your streak free window. I'm kidding a little bit of course. But, I do feel like my house needs to be on its best behavior when RS sisters come by for luncheons or meetings.
My favorite scripture is found in Doctrine & Covenants 88:119 Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing, and establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God;
There are times in my life when I feel like I'm living in a organized house of order - and there are other times when I'm not. I like balance - so hopefully one of these days I will be able to balance my time and other activities with the cleaning of my house. Until then - welcome to the roller coaster of cleaning that I call home.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Project Sister Day
When I lived in AZ, me and a few of my close girlfriends got together every Thursday to do projects. It varied between crafts, scrapbooking, shopping or just going to lunch. Right before I moved, my garage was a disaster -- the girls offered to help me. So, one lovely spring Thursday, we got together and cleaned out my disaster area - for many hours. It was truly a labor of love. This didn't happen every week - but periodically we got together and served each other - we cleaned out someones closet, folded a basket of socks or decorated a room, etc. Whether we were doing big projects or just little things--the friends serving friends idea was a hit. Those magical times came to a close when I moved. Curses!
Since I've moved, I've searched for friends who could be so near and dear to my heart that I would dare share a messy garage with. Many have been called but few have been chosen. My standards are high for this position. It has to be someone who will let me live my life and not judge me. Some of my new friends have come close - but they haven't been able to prove their undying love for me yet. I don't really have a test - it's a conglomerate of things and situations. Nothing specific really--although I'm sure it involves diet coke.
This afternoon, as I was hanging out with my sister at one of our favorite stores Rod Works, the thought occured to me that the search for a friend who was so near and dear to my heart that I'd let her see my messy garage - had been right under my nose since July! I realized that my sister could be that near and dear friend (I mean, good grief she lived with me for 2 months - what more of a sign did I need than that?) I reminded her of "Project Thursdays" that I had done with my AZ girlfriends - and suggested that we do that together. She loved the idea!
On Tuesday, she came over and helped me redecorate my kitchen and front room - so we are counting that as our first weekly project. She has visions of basement organizing and ironing a big laundry pile. While I'm planning on having her help me redo my craft room and maybe paint a wall in my family room. No matter what we do, it will be worthwhile - because not only do I get to hang out with my favorite sister, but we'll be being productive while we do it.
Since I've moved, I've searched for friends who could be so near and dear to my heart that I would dare share a messy garage with. Many have been called but few have been chosen. My standards are high for this position. It has to be someone who will let me live my life and not judge me. Some of my new friends have come close - but they haven't been able to prove their undying love for me yet. I don't really have a test - it's a conglomerate of things and situations. Nothing specific really--although I'm sure it involves diet coke.
This afternoon, as I was hanging out with my sister at one of our favorite stores Rod Works, the thought occured to me that the search for a friend who was so near and dear to my heart that I'd let her see my messy garage - had been right under my nose since July! I realized that my sister could be that near and dear friend (I mean, good grief she lived with me for 2 months - what more of a sign did I need than that?) I reminded her of "Project Thursdays" that I had done with my AZ girlfriends - and suggested that we do that together. She loved the idea!
On Tuesday, she came over and helped me redecorate my kitchen and front room - so we are counting that as our first weekly project. She has visions of basement organizing and ironing a big laundry pile. While I'm planning on having her help me redo my craft room and maybe paint a wall in my family room. No matter what we do, it will be worthwhile - because not only do I get to hang out with my favorite sister, but we'll be being productive while we do it.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Third Times the Charm
For the most part, my DH is great at hanging pictures on the wall. I am demanding in my requests that things be centered and at the perfect height - and as a rule he does a decent job. He was such a great sport when it came to the hanging of the "clock wall" -- 5 big clocks on a vaulted ceiling wall, were not an easy task for sure. He had great success in the piano room with my over sized topiary pictures - and a very, very heavy mirror. He also hung without complaint - an awkward, but heavy clock in my kitchen.
There is only one issue DH seems to have with the hanging of pictures and that is it generally takes him 3 times to get it right. The clock wall is an exception to this rule - he was pretty much on with the clocks (although I wanted them to be catawampus - so there was a bit more room for error).
Recently, we moved the piano from the family room into the living room. This required some redecorating. As mentioned above, in the front room we have 2 over sized topiary pictures and a heavy mirror. Basically, we had to flip flop the walls - moving the mirror to the wall where the topiary pictures were and vice versa.
When we took the topiary pictures off the wall, I laughed. I had forgotten my DH's secret to his success with the hanging of pictures - until I saw the 12 holes in the wall (each picture had two hooks on either side of it - so 3X2=6X2=12 lovely holes.
My daughter came in and asked what the deal was with all the holes, and I explained to her the "3 hole rule" that DH had in hanging pictures. Then I started to sing, "He's once, twice, three times a hanger..." After my beautiful song, and a little eye-rolling - DH announced that this time it was going to be different - this time it was going to only take him one try - because now he was a hanging professional.
Mirror Hanging Take One: DH put in his wall anchors, screwed in the screw and then with my assistance we hung the mirror. Unfortunately, it was too low. (In his defense, the mirror has two hinged hooks on the back - that slide with the screw in the wall and it makes for a tricky hanging). But still, suffice it to say, "He's once, twice, three times the hanger..."
Mirror Hanging Take Two: DH just knew he'd be able to hang the mirror this second time around. I mean, all he had to do was raise it up - and we would be good to go. DH put in his wall anchors, screwed in the screws, and once again we hung the picture. I could tell it was just right -- the mirror was perfectly level and looked fab. At least, until we moved the piano back to the wall. Then we discovered it was not centered above the piano and that is definitely one of my requirements. At this point, there were so many holes in the wall, I suggested we just take a marker, connect the dots and we'd have some great modern art. What can I say except "He's once, twice, three time the hanger..."
Mirror Hanging Take Three: With the mirror off the wall, my daughter again came into the room and commented on the holes in the wall -- she said, "Dad with all those holes in the wall, what are we going to do if we ever move?" (I suggested new drywall - which DH didn't appreciate). Since this was the third time, we both knew that the picture hanging for the evening was almost coming to a close. Sure enough, DH moved the wall anchors over two inches, screwed in the screws and we hung the picture. It was fabulously centered, gloriously level and I couldn't be happier. Hey, we may not get things right the first time, or maybe even the second time - but mark us down for the third time cause we're golden!
And hey DH, this next cheesy song is just for you, "You're once, twice, three times a hanger - but we love you!"
There is only one issue DH seems to have with the hanging of pictures and that is it generally takes him 3 times to get it right. The clock wall is an exception to this rule - he was pretty much on with the clocks (although I wanted them to be catawampus - so there was a bit more room for error).
Recently, we moved the piano from the family room into the living room. This required some redecorating. As mentioned above, in the front room we have 2 over sized topiary pictures and a heavy mirror. Basically, we had to flip flop the walls - moving the mirror to the wall where the topiary pictures were and vice versa.
When we took the topiary pictures off the wall, I laughed. I had forgotten my DH's secret to his success with the hanging of pictures - until I saw the 12 holes in the wall (each picture had two hooks on either side of it - so 3X2=6X2=12 lovely holes.
My daughter came in and asked what the deal was with all the holes, and I explained to her the "3 hole rule" that DH had in hanging pictures. Then I started to sing, "He's once, twice, three times a hanger..." After my beautiful song, and a little eye-rolling - DH announced that this time it was going to be different - this time it was going to only take him one try - because now he was a hanging professional.
Mirror Hanging Take One: DH put in his wall anchors, screwed in the screw and then with my assistance we hung the mirror. Unfortunately, it was too low. (In his defense, the mirror has two hinged hooks on the back - that slide with the screw in the wall and it makes for a tricky hanging). But still, suffice it to say, "He's once, twice, three times the hanger..."
Mirror Hanging Take Two: DH just knew he'd be able to hang the mirror this second time around. I mean, all he had to do was raise it up - and we would be good to go. DH put in his wall anchors, screwed in the screws, and once again we hung the picture. I could tell it was just right -- the mirror was perfectly level and looked fab. At least, until we moved the piano back to the wall. Then we discovered it was not centered above the piano and that is definitely one of my requirements. At this point, there were so many holes in the wall, I suggested we just take a marker, connect the dots and we'd have some great modern art. What can I say except "He's once, twice, three time the hanger..."
Mirror Hanging Take Three: With the mirror off the wall, my daughter again came into the room and commented on the holes in the wall -- she said, "Dad with all those holes in the wall, what are we going to do if we ever move?" (I suggested new drywall - which DH didn't appreciate). Since this was the third time, we both knew that the picture hanging for the evening was almost coming to a close. Sure enough, DH moved the wall anchors over two inches, screwed in the screws and we hung the picture. It was fabulously centered, gloriously level and I couldn't be happier. Hey, we may not get things right the first time, or maybe even the second time - but mark us down for the third time cause we're golden!
And hey DH, this next cheesy song is just for you, "You're once, twice, three times a hanger - but we love you!"
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
My Littlest Pet Shop
My kids are always asking for me for a pet -- dogs, cats, birds (yes - they are so desperate that even a bird sounds good). It's not that I don't like animals - I grew up with dogs. But, they weren't the kind you bonded with - they were my dad's hunting dogs and they served there purpose. I just haven't been able to find a purpose for a pet in our family yet.
Now, I don't mind low maintenance pets - like fish. For the twins birthday, my sis gave them each an African frog. They aren't too bad -- a lot like having a fish - and I think more fun to watch. Although I must admit, the best kind of pets are the stuffed ones.
My neighborhood is full of cute little expensive dogs. My good friend has a darling Shih Tzu that absolutely adores me - I'm not joking. He shows this by licking my toes incessantly and hopping up on my lap everytime I sit down. This isn't the first dog that has enjoyed the toe-licking. It seems that every cute little yippy-yappy dog I come in contact with is trying to buy my love with toe licking. What is it with me and these little furballs? They must have some sort of sensor that makes them want to convince me that I really should love them. Unfortunately, I do not return the adoration.
So, as my children continue to feel deprived, I like to remember the quote of a good friend of mine, Jolene, who says something to the effect of, "I can either be a pet lover or a kid lover - take your pick." (75% of the time my kids pick the kid lover).
Now, I don't mind low maintenance pets - like fish. For the twins birthday, my sis gave them each an African frog. They aren't too bad -- a lot like having a fish - and I think more fun to watch. Although I must admit, the best kind of pets are the stuffed ones.
My neighborhood is full of cute little expensive dogs. My good friend has a darling Shih Tzu that absolutely adores me - I'm not joking. He shows this by licking my toes incessantly and hopping up on my lap everytime I sit down. This isn't the first dog that has enjoyed the toe-licking. It seems that every cute little yippy-yappy dog I come in contact with is trying to buy my love with toe licking. What is it with me and these little furballs? They must have some sort of sensor that makes them want to convince me that I really should love them. Unfortunately, I do not return the adoration.
So, as my children continue to feel deprived, I like to remember the quote of a good friend of mine, Jolene, who says something to the effect of, "I can either be a pet lover or a kid lover - take your pick." (75% of the time my kids pick the kid lover).
Monday, November 5, 2007
My Sabbath Day
Yesterday, just after Sunday dinner, our doorbell rang. I answered it. A rough teenage girl, barefoot and in her pajamas - with many piercings in her face - stood on my front porch. She said she was new to the area - had just moved here - and she was lost and wondered if she could use my phone. Hoping she wasn't here to case the joint, I said sure - and sent one of the kids to get it for her.
She called her friend asking him if he could come and pick her up. Then she said to me - "I don't know where I am - what's the address over here?" I told her the main crossroads of my neighborhood. She told the boy over the phone where she was and then hung up, said thanks and left. I shut the door and didn't pay attention to where she went - I just assumed she'd head over to the main crossroad and wait.
About five minutes later, my phone rang. It was a cell phone number I didn't recognize, but I figured it was the boy looking for the teenage girl so I answered it. I was right - he asked for "Taylor". I told them that she had left to where I assumed she told them to meet her. He told me she hadn't specified a meeting place and that they were lost and asked for further instructions. I gave them better directions and hung up.
Within a few minutes, they called again. They were in front of my house and still couldn't find "Taylor". Man - I was hoping I wasn't in for a home invasion because these kids were rough characters too. They were in a beat up old SUV - but they seemed truly concerned about Taylor. I went out onto my front porch and talked to them - telling them maybe she went out the other side of the subdivision. It really was a puzzle. They took off in the direction I told them - and I never heard back from them.
I just dropped my kids off at school, and was reminded of "Taylor" and her plight as I turned into my subdivison. It's pretty cold outside - I hope they found her. I have the boy's cell phone number - so I could call - but I won't. I'm just curious - and I'll admit a little worried about this girl without shoes.
Thinking about Taylor this morning, makes me wish I would've done more. Or at least offered her some socks. It was around 5 in the evening - probably about 40 degrees outside - and she had no shoes and a light jacket on. Underneath her gothic makeup and piercings, she seemed nervous. Was she on drugs? A runaway? What kind of trouble was she in? Why did she choose my house? It wasn't like mine was the first house she came to in our subdvision. What was her story? Why do I care about someone I'll never see again?
I guess, I care because of my own future teenage daughters. I have good kids and I pray everyday that they will make good choices and be safe. But, if they are ever in a desparate situation -- I hope they will be able to find a mom who will help them, let them use her phone, and maybe offer them some socks.
She called her friend asking him if he could come and pick her up. Then she said to me - "I don't know where I am - what's the address over here?" I told her the main crossroads of my neighborhood. She told the boy over the phone where she was and then hung up, said thanks and left. I shut the door and didn't pay attention to where she went - I just assumed she'd head over to the main crossroad and wait.
About five minutes later, my phone rang. It was a cell phone number I didn't recognize, but I figured it was the boy looking for the teenage girl so I answered it. I was right - he asked for "Taylor". I told them that she had left to where I assumed she told them to meet her. He told me she hadn't specified a meeting place and that they were lost and asked for further instructions. I gave them better directions and hung up.
Within a few minutes, they called again. They were in front of my house and still couldn't find "Taylor". Man - I was hoping I wasn't in for a home invasion because these kids were rough characters too. They were in a beat up old SUV - but they seemed truly concerned about Taylor. I went out onto my front porch and talked to them - telling them maybe she went out the other side of the subdivision. It really was a puzzle. They took off in the direction I told them - and I never heard back from them.
I just dropped my kids off at school, and was reminded of "Taylor" and her plight as I turned into my subdivison. It's pretty cold outside - I hope they found her. I have the boy's cell phone number - so I could call - but I won't. I'm just curious - and I'll admit a little worried about this girl without shoes.
Thinking about Taylor this morning, makes me wish I would've done more. Or at least offered her some socks. It was around 5 in the evening - probably about 40 degrees outside - and she had no shoes and a light jacket on. Underneath her gothic makeup and piercings, she seemed nervous. Was she on drugs? A runaway? What kind of trouble was she in? Why did she choose my house? It wasn't like mine was the first house she came to in our subdvision. What was her story? Why do I care about someone I'll never see again?
I guess, I care because of my own future teenage daughters. I have good kids and I pray everyday that they will make good choices and be safe. But, if they are ever in a desparate situation -- I hope they will be able to find a mom who will help them, let them use her phone, and maybe offer them some socks.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Mediocrity at it's Finest
My mom asked me the other day if I liked my dermatologist. I told her he was okay but I wouldn't really recommend him to anyone. This concerned her. "Why are you going to someone you don't like?" she asked. I informed her I was too lazy to drive to a better doctor who was 20 minutes further away (this guy is already 15 minutes away). I also told her that I was fine with mediocre doctors as long as it wasn't for something major. I mean, how hard is it to shave off a mole? I think I could've done it myself - but I like the numbing medication too much.
So, this morning I had a dermatologist appointment for "nevus eradication" (the medical term sounds so much fancier than "mole removal"). The secretary from the office had left me a voicemail message two days ago reminding me of my 11:00 appointment - and informing me at the Dr's request to arrive 20 minutes before said appointment. At my last visit - I had waited 30 minutes in the waiting room and another 30 in the examining room - but I figured I'd better do what they said.
Upon my arrival at the office, (at 10:40 no less) I noticed a fairly crowded room. Being that he is the only Dr. in the office - I figured I would have quite the wait. Honestly, I really don't mind waiting for doctors -- as long as they have good magazines and I don't have any kids with me. But, I did wonder when the "prep work" I was there for would begin.
At about 1130, the nurse took me back into the Dr's examination room. She sat down to get my stats - and said "You are here for...You are here for..." She was scanning my file and couldn't find my purpose for the visit. I reminded her "nevus eradication" (well actually - I used the layman's term - but I'm trying to be famous right now). She continued to look and couldn't find it anywhere in my chart. She said finally found my info. But I think she was faking it because she felt so dumb. She looked positively puzzled.
She started to prepare the tray for "nevus eradication". Then she got this huge camera and said she needed to photograph said "nevus". At this point, she left the room. Out in the hall, I could hear her talking (those doctor office walls should be soundproofed). She said, "You know that lady who we have no idea why she's here? Well, she says it's for "nevus eradication" and I need to take pictures and I don't know what to take a picture of."
At this point, I started to reconsider my take on mediocrity. I mean, good grief - what if "nevus eradication" didn't mean mole removal? Admittedly, I was already nervous about getting shots in my eyebrow and forehead - and this chick definitely wasn't making it any better.
The mystery lady in the hall miraculously found the information in my large but concise three page file and showed it to the nurse. She came back in and sheepishly took her pictures. She had me sign some paperwork saying I wouldn't hold them accountable for stuff (I think mediocrity was on that list). Then the doc came in (at noon - for those of you keeping track) and I'm pretty sure he knew what he was doing - at least I hope he did.
Yes, the shot hurt. Yes, the nevus' have been eradicated. And No, I won't be going back to that joker. Maybe mediocrity is okay for some things - but I guess dermatologists aren't one of them.
So, this morning I had a dermatologist appointment for "nevus eradication" (the medical term sounds so much fancier than "mole removal"). The secretary from the office had left me a voicemail message two days ago reminding me of my 11:00 appointment - and informing me at the Dr's request to arrive 20 minutes before said appointment. At my last visit - I had waited 30 minutes in the waiting room and another 30 in the examining room - but I figured I'd better do what they said.
Upon my arrival at the office, (at 10:40 no less) I noticed a fairly crowded room. Being that he is the only Dr. in the office - I figured I would have quite the wait. Honestly, I really don't mind waiting for doctors -- as long as they have good magazines and I don't have any kids with me. But, I did wonder when the "prep work" I was there for would begin.
At about 1130, the nurse took me back into the Dr's examination room. She sat down to get my stats - and said "You are here for...You are here for..." She was scanning my file and couldn't find my purpose for the visit. I reminded her "nevus eradication" (well actually - I used the layman's term - but I'm trying to be famous right now). She continued to look and couldn't find it anywhere in my chart. She said finally found my info. But I think she was faking it because she felt so dumb. She looked positively puzzled.
She started to prepare the tray for "nevus eradication". Then she got this huge camera and said she needed to photograph said "nevus". At this point, she left the room. Out in the hall, I could hear her talking (those doctor office walls should be soundproofed). She said, "You know that lady who we have no idea why she's here? Well, she says it's for "nevus eradication" and I need to take pictures and I don't know what to take a picture of."
At this point, I started to reconsider my take on mediocrity. I mean, good grief - what if "nevus eradication" didn't mean mole removal? Admittedly, I was already nervous about getting shots in my eyebrow and forehead - and this chick definitely wasn't making it any better.
The mystery lady in the hall miraculously found the information in my large but concise three page file and showed it to the nurse. She came back in and sheepishly took her pictures. She had me sign some paperwork saying I wouldn't hold them accountable for stuff (I think mediocrity was on that list). Then the doc came in (at noon - for those of you keeping track) and I'm pretty sure he knew what he was doing - at least I hope he did.
Yes, the shot hurt. Yes, the nevus' have been eradicated. And No, I won't be going back to that joker. Maybe mediocrity is okay for some things - but I guess dermatologists aren't one of them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)