Recovery

I called the REI Clinic to schedule a follow up appointment. I followed the menu options. Option #1 was "if you are a new patient" choice, Option #2 was for non-new patients willing to speak with a coordinator which is the option I selected.

I got a voicemail back telling that I had picked the wrong option. I should have selected Option #1 and tell the new patient coordinator that I am not a new patient.

But of course! Why did I not think of that before?

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The Obituary of the Elephant Tea Pot

9/9/1992-3/20/2007


Farewell dear Elephant Teapot, companion of so many sleepless nights.

After sailing the Seven Seas and traveling five continents, Elephant Teapot succumb to a sad, unexpected, and molten end following a short but courageous battle with the right front burner.

Elephant teapot is survived by 2 elegant english mugs, Frog and Toad, and 2 understated but refined teaspoons. Also, the family pet cookie, Le Petit Ecolier.

Elephant teapot was 15 years old.

The burial ceremony took place at 6:30pm, in trash bin #2.


In lieu of flowers, the family requests a new teapot and 2 teabags.

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OK. Let's look back at the past few days. I had no idea that domestic life could be so exciting. My fridge was just about to explode before an emergency Fondue rescue. A volunteer friend ran away with my insurance card. My landlord found cat's hair in the stairwell and has sent a quarantine order until he can clean things up. I have lost a teapot in a dramatic kitchen fire. My cleaning lady just broke the vase that used to contain the sunflowers. There's water all over the place. My left-hand is all bruised because of Anesthesiologist The Great and I can't get this band-aid glue off my arm. Apparently it makes me look so trashy that I just got an IM from a friend who's hoping that the garbage truck will leave me alone. I have become extremely skilled at stacking up in elegant domino fashion over 6 packs of "Le Petit Ecolier".

I have just received a call from the insurance company asking me about the procedure as they are processing my disability claim. It's such a rare procedure that I had to describe what it was. When I started a very scientific description of how the top of the vagina could be stitched to the bottom of the uterus, the lady on the phone said "All right, you can stop right there, I am going to approve your claim. I got the paperwork from your doctor's office. In fact if you wanted to take more time off, it sounds like a good idea"

I am now at serious risk of acute boredom since I sleep only one hour out of five, a rare disease in my family...