So I had my yearly physical today- yesterday morning I went for my fasting labs- had to take the boys, as no on wants to babysit at 7:30 am. Hell, I don't blame them! It was just labs- so away we went.
First of all, we parked and got out of the car and it started to pour- so we are soaking wet piling into the elevator to go up the office. Commence fighting over who presses the elevator buttons- mommy wins because I am getting a needle in my arm. M and J were coaching me on how to handle this atrocity (which doesn't bother me at all). M's advice was that I kick the needle person in the knee because they were hurting me. J was practical- "Just do what Lali does and think about ice cream until it's all done." Frankly, I'd rather think about a charcuterie board, but same concept.
And then came the actual moment. I am chatting with Eric, my most favorite phlebotomist of all time- and don't even notice he's drawing blood, until I see two little jaws drop. They were OBSESSED with it. J wanted to lecture Eric on how to be careful not the let the blood oxygenate because then I would get false results (this has happened to him before- no, he wasn't having a heart attack at 3 months old- bad phlebotomist). Then again, maybe I'm a crap mom for actually discussing medicine with my little...M was really into keeping track of the tubes and wanted to make sure all the labels matched so I had the right results. Needless to say, it was harder to drag them out of the office than it was to get them in.
Fast forward to my actual appointment. Lovely Megan does my vitals and what not and leaves me to wait for the doc. OBVIOUSLY I am grabbing my file and reviewing my results. Hello, I am pretty capable when it comes to this stuff. Everything looks great- MCV is much lower than last year and in a happy range (I hate it when my red blood cells are all fat and stuff- stupid carbs)! Nothing in the abnormal range at ALL. I was actually miffed for a moment. I'm used to having some wacko number misbehaving. Last year it was the MCV, year before, creatinine. But wait, where is my A1C???? Being kind of a pain in the ass I left the room and went out into the office to ask. They don't even bother to ask me to put on a johnny anymore because I always refuse, so no worries, fully covered.
"WHERE IS MY A1C? I know you ordered one because I had gestational diabetes twice! It's NOT HERE!". Ensue confusion and scrambling and calling the lab.
Bottom line, lab forgot to print it. A1C is awesome. Once they figured all that out, went back into the exam room. My doc looks at me and said, "well, I guess I don't need to review your labs with you!". Nope. Listens to my lungs, checks my pulse, and woo, good to go. And then we spend twenty minutes gabbing about the best beaches in the US.
I love my doctor. I think anyone else would think I was bat shit crazy.
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